


Winter Wings

by ShivaeSyke



Series: Metamorphosis [3]
Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: Cats, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family Feels, Fluff, Monsters, Superstition, Wedding Planning, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:08:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 56,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22089154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShivaeSyke/pseuds/ShivaeSyke
Summary: Bog and Marianne have a new life together as a couple and no longer alone, unfortunately, they don't see eye to eye on everything, just like any other couple.  Their biggest area of contention is preparing for the upcoming Winter.  Without a finished home and not knowing how cold their new home will be, Bog has stressed that Marianne needs to remain in the fairy rock with the other fairies for the winter and they will marry in the Spring.  Marianne has other ideas.  She will end up staying with Bog during the winter one way or another.Unfortunately, it ends up not being due to her plotting as Roland has his own goals, making a desperate attempt to kidnap Marianne. When he fails, Dawn ends up his next target, a target he may regret when all is said and done.
Relationships: Bog King/Marianne (Strange Magic), Dawn/Sunny (Strange Magic), Marianne & Roland (Strange Magic)
Series: Metamorphosis [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1450054
Comments: 124
Kudos: 55





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have no patience.

“What do ye think, Love?” Bog smiled, showing off his work to his beautiful fairy woman.

“It’s perfect.” Marianne smiled, hovering around a large oblong hanging nest Bog wove high up in their tree. It was lined with soft leaves and filled with fragrant rose petals. Sunlight filtered through the overreaching limbs, but it was cool among the leaves.

They chose an ancient oak tree on the border between the dark forest and fairylands to serve as Bog’s new castle. It was the very tree he hid in to spy on Marianne over the last year. The massive tree grew on the border with long branches reaching into both kingdoms. The roots wrapped around an enormous rock, which would eventually serve as their winter home. Their summer home would be built up higher in the branches.

Bog had a preference for heights, but his fellow goblins preferred the ground. It would be safer for Marianne during the winter to reside in the rock. Fairy and elven workers were already working on building inside the stone.

It would not be ready until the fall, and Bog insisted that for their first winter as a couple, he needed to make sure their new home would be warm enough for Marianne. He would not risk her life just to have her near him at all times during the winter months. Bog could visit her every day as the weather permitted.

They planned to marry the following Spring. Marianne handled the initial plans for their wedding, making use of Dawn and Griselda's eagerness to plot a glamorous event, including both Fairy and Goblin customs. Bog oversaw the construction of their new home. Caves ran beneath their home, similar to the ones that had existed beneath the old castle. The hot springs also ran nearby. Goblins had already begun tunneling and making burrows beneath the new home. They sought the safety of being watched over by their king during their hibernating months, and it made Bog happy that they still trusted him.

Marianne’s favorite time of day became the hours following lunch. Goblins slept from the time after lunch until the hottest part of the day passed. Bog kept to his habits, and this was one he shared with Marianne. They curled up together in the gently swaying bed and spent a few hours in each other’s embrace. A few minutes were spent in idle conversation because she wasn’t accustomed to sleeping when the sun was up. She trailed her hands over Bog’s face, smiling as he responded to her touch with contented sighs and an ever-changing smile.

This was love. The longer Marianne spent with Bog, the more she understood the difference between what she had with Roland and what she had with Bog. Roland had been infatuation and desperation for someone to love her. Being betrayed by Roland wasn’t pleasant, but he did her a favor. She would have been in a loveless marriage and miserable. That sickeningly fake charm would have worn through, and she would have eventually seen through it, but she would have been trapped.

Marianne ran her fingers over Bog’s lips, tracing the small scars that broke them. She smiled and pressed on his lower lip, revealing the crooked smile beneath them. So what if he didn’t look perfect, he didn’t need to pretend to be something he wasn’t to have her heart. When Bog looked at her, his beautiful blue eyes were only for her. His gaze was always full of love and adoration. Even when they had a disagreement, his eyes showed that love, making her back off and seek more rational language.

Bog had a wonderful effect on Marianne. For some reason, looking at him made her calmer. She was forced to think beyond the anger and bitterness she held in the previous year. When they sparred, her head was clear. She was a better warrior and becoming a better leader. And it was because her father had been right. Marianne wasn’t complete as a single person.

Everything she wasn’t, Bog was. They were perfect complements, even if they did get into heated discussions on occasion. Those tended to end in excusing themselves from meetings or leaving the planning room to diffuse themselves in passionate kissing sessions somewhere more private. Her father made it clear he didn’t appreciate walking in on them, sitting on the planning table making out.

When they trained with the troops and the Fairy King, Bog was confident and his usual stern, no-nonsense self. Alone with Marianne, he was sweet and shy. He didn’t know what he was doing any more than she did. There were times they sat in silence, smiling, and unsure of what to do with each other.

-=-=-=-=-=-

Bog found himself smiling more than he had smiled in his entire life. His mother enjoyed harassing him about the cheerful expression he wore around Marianne. He couldn’t help it. Being around her made him feel good. Knowing he was loved by such an amazing woman filled his heart with a warmth he never experienced before.

That night he almost lost her was among the most painful nights of his life. It was as bad as the day he woke to find his father passed. Only he didn’t have the luxury of breaking down. He had to act, or the cold would have stolen her away from him before he had a chance to know her better. It hurt, and he thought that was all love would be. An eternal ache in his heart and soul that made him want to continue experiencing it. He couldn’t explain why at the time.

Then he realized that the other emotions he felt toward Marianne were tied directly into the pain and sorrow. With one came the other. He loved her and had for a long time. Bog denied it for so long, but now he understood. He needed her in his life to be complete. She was everything he was not, and it anchored him. The bitterness and jealousy he had felt for decades faded away to nothing. He had the one thing he had always wanted, love.

Bog found his thoughts clearer, and things that irritated him were less of a bother. Stress fell from his shoulders now that he wasn’t alone in taking care of his people. He was still the same, but he was free to be himself and embrace the more compassionate side he kept under guard. It wasn’t a weakness to care and love. His people loved him and respected him more because of his actions to save them and their children.

It had taken almost being crushed to death under his own castle for Bog to understand who he was. He was the guardian of the dark forest, not a tyrant. He had traveled the path of what he thought he was supposed to do for far too long. He had followed his head and cold logic over his more sensitive heart. Bog had done that to himself. Now, he chose to follow what his heart told him. The Fairy King’s land was prosperous because he balanced his heart and his mind. Bog was learning how to do that as well.

The fierce goblin king shadowed the Fairy King in every meeting and in his daily work. He was eager to learn from the man who had been friends with his father. Bog wanted nothing more than to be a good King to his people, and humbling himself in this way was acceptable.

Bog had been given a new suit of gleaming black armor armor, gilded in gold and a robe patterned after the one his mother made. He felt good in them, especially with the way Fairies and Elves gave him a wide berth when they saw him coming. He didn’t enjoy the fear, but soon they got used to seeing him and the fear turned into awe and respect. He won them over with his words when it called for them. When he showed them he had proper manners, spoke clearly, and they saw how regal he could be, they respected him.

-=-=-=-=-=-

In the weeks that followed the destruction of the goblin castle, there wasn’t a dull moment. Goblins spilled out into the fairylands, exploring and learning about their new allies. Fairies and elves ventured into the forest and got up to more mischief than was expected. On occasion, goblins had to rescue fairies and elves from themselves.

To usher in this new era, King Dagda suggested a new festival which included all their people. He called it the New Beginnings Feast and had Marianne and Bog plan it together. It was a learning experience.

Bog was wingless for two weeks, and one of his wings grew in with a kink in it. He got tired of trying to adjust to it and ended up having Marianne cut a slit into it, something she cringed at, then he healed it back together straight. His healing ability came in handy when he could use it. He had to be able to fly correctly to travel around the forest and make sure every goblin understood they must behave, and there would be no eating any elves or fairies.

Marianne concentrated on arranging entertainment and food, leaving everything else to Dawn and Griselda. Sunny was more than happy to provide the music. Bog promised to provide fish. It was a meat that was acceptable to all. Bog had his goblins scour the forest for herbs and wild fauna that was rare in the fairylands.

Together, Marianne and Bog decided to hold the festival in the wild field that grew around their future home. Having a massive party on the border would make everyone feel welcome. Bog even planned to have a few of his more trustworthy owls, bats, and cats present to show the fairies and elves they were harmless. He intended to have at least one owl reside in the tree year-round.

-=-=-=-=-=-

The festival started out organized, but soon devolved into a chaotic affair. Marianne and Bog loved every moment of it. Their tree was decorated with glowing golden stars that Bog created. Strands of dewdrops hung from the limbs. Sunny and his band played wild music from the rock. Fairies, elves, and goblins danced with wild abandon around roaring bonfires. And they ate. There was more than enough food to go around.

Marianne wore a beautiful purple dress with black and gold accents that matched her wings. Bog dressed up as well, thanks to Dawn. The younger princess poured out designs for Marianne and Bog. She had a real knack for it and enjoyed the opportunity to do something other than just be a pretty little princess.

Bog and Marianne joined their people in the festivities. Everyone was there for them to celebrate their love. And they danced. Dawn taught Bog how to dance like a fairy secretly. Despite his long limbs, Bog turned out to be a graceful dancer and caught on quickly.

“When did you learn to dance, my King?” Marianne laughed when he took her hand and led her into the air with the other dancing fairies.

“When ye opened my heart, Love.” Bog smiled warmly, wrapping a hand around Marianne’s waist and twirling with her. His wings made up for his lack of experience. They made him more maneuverable than any fairy and far faster.

-=-=-=-=-=-

The evening festivities dragged on into the night, and morning found passed out party guests all over the field. It was a good party. Bog, Marianne, Sunny, and Dawn ended up in the nest, with Bog sprawled out over most of it and Marianne sleeping across him. Sunny and Dawn were curled up together, nearby. Bog snored with a happy smile on his face, one arm draped over Marianne, the other hanging over the edge of the nest.

Life was good.

“I don’t want to wait until next spring,” Marianne whispered, snuggling up closer to Bog, her fingers sliding over his chest. “I want to marry you now, Bog.”

“That’s the ale talking,” chuckled Bog. “We went over this, Marianne. I want to bring ye into our home on our wedding night. That is how it should be. And I need to know it’ll be warm enough over the winter.”

“Ugh, you are so set in your ways.” Marianne reached up with a smile to fiddle with the flower crown on Bog’s head. “So annoyingly proper for the big scary king of the dark forest.”

“That is why ye love me.” Bog smirked, squeezing her tightly against him.

“You don’t scare me!” Marianne laughed, pounding lightly on his chest with her fist. “You big softie!”

“Hush,” chuckled Bog playfully. “Don’t want anyone hearing that.”

Marianne pushed herself up, then leaned forward to look Bog in the eye. “I love you because you’re ridiculously tall.” Then she began kissing him. Bog closed his eyes and enjoyed it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roland is still hanging around, plotting somewhere outside the Dark Forest and Fairylands.
> 
> Bog's time out in the open sun is having some odd effect on him, which he's embarassed about.

Roland looked at his surroundings in disgust. After weeks running and hiding in the dark forest and fairylands, it was clear this whole situation was not going to blow over. He was hunted and only managed to avoid detection by shedding his gleaming armor and resorting to heading north. His armor was hidden in a secure place for when he needed it again. 

The place Roland found was a tiny abandoned fairy home hidden high up in a knotted pine tree. It was uncomfortably close to a human home. For now, it would do. Roland needed shelter and a safe place to think. He would have a problem if he was unable to return home by winter. By return home, he preferred it not be in shackles, to live for who knew how long in the seldom-used dungeon deep beneath the fairy rock. 

Everything had gone according to plan until Marriane, and the Bog King intervened. That beautiful fairy woman was more enticing every time she did something like that. Roland spent most of his time visualizing the things he would like to do to her. It went beyond obsession to hunger to conquer and dominate that wild spirit. Marianne would be his, one way or another. 

Roland worked on his home, already calculating how much food he would need to store to get him through a long cold winter if he ended up stranded. That would be the most challenging part of surviving out here, food. He had no idea how to cook, let alone preserve food, and store it properly.

A thudding sound came from the other side of the half-broken door covering the entrance to his new home. Roland scowled. Pixies. They looked harmless at first, but there were many of them, and they were nearby, living in an old falling down farmhouse. There was little to wonder about why this home had been abandoned. Those tiny little creatures were annoying.

-=-=-=-=-=--=

“What’s that thing on your head?” Marianne peered up at Bog, one hand lifted, reaching toward his forehead. They stood on a branch in their tree, overlooking a group of workers coming in and out of the rock.

“What thing?” Bog rolled his eyes up, trying to see what she was talking about. Marianne snagged a tiny curl of what looked like a small bit of vine coming out of the leaf scaling on his head. “Stop that.” He grumbled, jerking back. “I don’t know. I’ve been cutting them off every morning.”

“Why?” Now Marianne peered closer. “Lean down, so I can see your head.”

“No.” Bog snorted defensively, standing as tall and straight as he could. Then he reached up and nervously ran a hand over his head. The usual rustle like dried leaves didn’t fill his ears.

“All that time in the sunlight, I think your head has more color on it, more reddish-brown and not as grey.” Marianne flapped her wings and hovered so she could see the top of Bog’s head. “Maybe a little green.”

Bog scowled, not liking that observation at all. “I am not a plant, Marianne.” He reached up and began nipping off the vine-like protrusions between his fingers.

“Why don’t you let them grow and see what happens?” She suggested, dropping back onto the branch in front of him.

“Because I don’t want to wake up some morning and find a tumbleweed on my head,” snorted Bog. “It’s weird.”

“I’m really curious to see what it would do.”

“I’m not.” He turned away self consciously.

“Bog.” Marianne smiled, wrapping her arms around his right arm and hugging him. “Your skin isn’t as pale, because you spend more time in the light. I don’t think it’s a bad thing.”

“My father told me our kind adapt to whatever environment we are in,” muttered Bog, flicking the snapped off bits away from him. “I do not like this. Green would be an ugly color on me.”

“I don’t think you’re turning green,” laughed Marianne. “Just getting more natural color.”

“I need to stay out of the sun,” snorted Bog. Then he stopped, staring out over the verdant field spreading in front of their tree. “But I like being in the sunlight and the moonlight. They both invigorate me.”

“Yeah, I noticed your weird sleep schedule.” Marianne moved in front of Bog, sliding her arms around his waist and looking up at him. “You’re messing up mine. What’s going to happen to me if I live in the moonlight half the time?”

“Probably nothing.” Bog shrugged. “Ye aren’t quite the same as me.”

“We tell stories that say fairies that sleep under the moon lose their wings and become goblins.” 

Bog made a face at her. “Then ye are never to sleep under the moon or be out in it too much. I like ye the way ye are.”

“Just an old wives’ tale my mother used to tell us.” Marianne sighed, leaning her head against Bog’s chest. He raised a hand to gently stroke his claws through her hair, gazing at her with a smile. “You wouldn’t want me to be a goblin like you?”

“Doesn’t matter to me if yer a goblin or not, but I like ye the way ye are,” Bog repeated in a low, warm voice. “We have duties to attend to. I will meet ye here this afternoon?”

“Always.” Marianne nodded, with a sigh. She lingered for a moment longer against Bog, then they shared a long, slow kiss and parted ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do have a plan for those things on Bog. :D They won't turn into a tumbleweed. :D But it was a funny thing for him to say.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marianne's having one of those disagreeing moments and Bog is having NONE of it.

Spring flew by, and summer followed quickly behind. Bog and Marianne’s new home took shape. The summer home would be finished first, safe, secure, and open. Griselda happily took up residence in it and set about making it a home. Stairs were carved around the trunk of the tree, and Bog forced the wood to grow over it, encasing them so Griselda could come and go as she pleased in any weather. Marianne was fascinated by the whole process.

She followed Bog around, watching as he made adjustments to their home, forcing the tree to grow around their home’s structure with thicker and thicker walls. He always had a book on him, consulting it for more information about himself. The books were blank to Marianne, and she pestered him to tell her what was in them. He usually did.

“If I do this right, this won’t just be our summer home,” stated Bog, flying around the perimeter. “The wood will be thick enough to hold in the heat during the winter. We’ll seal the flight balcony doors.”

“I love it!” Marianne floated after him, riding on the current his wings created. “Bog, we can get married anytime.”

“No.” Bog turned to face her, a stern look on his face. “I will not risk yer life. I want to make sure it’s warm enough. Remember, once yer here, I might not be able to get ye to the Fairy Castle if something goes wrong. It must be secure.”

“Bog,” groaned Marianne. “Have the goblins dig a tunnel from here to the castle!”

He stared at her, scowling, then ran a hand over his jaw in thought. “I would have to ask permission from yer father, and it might not be done by Fall.” Marianne flitted around him in frustration, then she dove at him, forcing him to catch her. “Whoa!”

“Bog!” Marianne wrapped her arms around him in a fierce hug. “I’m tired of waiting! We have less than two months together!”

“Marianne.” Bog smiled but spoke sternly. “I promise ye I will visit daily.”

“Until it gets freezing, and you can’t visit at all.” Marianne pouted, something she didn’t employ often.

“What is wrong with ye?” Bog carried her to the large flight balcony off their future bedroom. “Ye know I love ye, Love.” 

Marianne clung to him, refusing to be put down, leaning her head against his chest. “I know. I love you, that’s why I don’t want to spend any time away from you.” She leaned back, dramatically running her hand over her forehead. “Last winter, I didn’t even KNOW who you were, and it was awful. You don’t understand what it’s like to be trapped in a rock with a bunch of dumb fairies who only want to hold dances and stupid parties all winter long!”

Bog carried Marianne to the shallow wood bed frame and sat down. “Marianne.” He sighed. “I will think about it, but if I say no, I would appreciate it if ye would respect my decision.”

“If I want to take that risk, you should respect my decision.” Marianne grabbed Bog’s head between her hands and scowled. Bog’s eyes took on a sad concerned light.

“Marianne. Ye don’t know what it would do to me if anything happened to ye, but I have responsibilities to my people too.” Bog maintained eye contact, frowning. “If I could, I would stay with ye in the rock to make sure ye don’t go crazy, but I have to protect my people while they hibernate.”

“I’m not asking you to do that,” Marianne grumbled. “I want to stay here. I want to get married and do all the things a married couple should do.”

“Oh.” Bog nodded slowly. “We’re back on that again. Waiting. Ye know why.”

“I do, and I understand.” Marianne frowned. “Because you would have to hover around me all the time if I happened to get pregnant, which I won’t.”

“Ye don’t know that,” chuckled Bog. “Ye don’t, but it would interfere with my duties, and ye know it.”

“Not if I’m here.” Marianne sighed.

“No.” Bog got up, pushing her away from him and scowling. “I said no. Stop bringing this up.”

“Argh! Bog!” Marianne bounced to her feet, chasing after him as he darted out of the room and onto the flight balcony. 

“I am NOT working on our home or making it anywhere near finished, because ye keep going on about this!” Bog shouted, zipping away into the trees. Marianne scowled and attempted to follow, but he was already gone.

“Bog!” She called out to him, fluttering around the trees. “Come back here! We’re in the middle of a discussion!” He was nowhere in sight. With a sigh, Marianne left the forest to return to their tree, drawing her sword to go through a practice session on the rock and get rid of some energy. 

Bog could be so infuriating. Marianne stormed around the rock, jabbing at overhanging flowers and leaves. She was sure winter wouldn’t be a problem, and he was worrying for no reason. As much as she loved her overprotective fiance, his stance in this matter rubbed her the wrong way.

Then she smiled, a plan burning bright in her mind. If she stopped bringing it up, he would finish their home, and she would figure out a way to be in it by the time it was too cold to leave. Bog didn’t pay attention to the frost on the ground or when it might occur. It wasn’t his tradition, It was a fairy tradition. A stupid, old tradition that Marianne didn’t even understand. 

Frost might be on the ground, but the days could still be warm. There was no reason fairies couldn’t be out on those days. They just needed to remain close to secure and warm shelter in case the weather turned. 

Marianne stopped what she was doing, letting the tip of her sword drop, running her left hand over her right arm nervously. Shivering at the memory of being caught in the cold, she stared out over the field. Winter terrified Marianne, and here she was, plotting to toy with it. She understood Bog’s concern, but her desire to be with him outweighed the fear.

-=-=-=- 

Bog did his rounds, angrily flying around the dark forest. Goblins were out foraging, looking for things to trade in the fairy market, as well as bring into the storeroom beneath Bog’s new castle. One of the first things to be dug out was the storeroom. Luckily, they happened upon a massive cavern deep beneath the earth. Most of the work was done with that finding.

Arguing with Marianne was not Bog’s preferred way to start the day. The arguments were occurring more frequently. She would not listen to him about this one crucial thing, and he didn’t want to argue, so he chose to leave. There were other things he would rather do, like a morning spar with her on the rock after breakfast.

Instead, Bog made his rounds, thinking about Marianne’s request. A tiny part of him wanted to give in, but the rest told him to stand firm. He was the Bog King, and when he said something, he kept to it. That and he was a little afraid of their wedding night and expectations. 

He moved slowly with Marianne, taking care for a reason. Getting used to physical touch and affection took time. Bog was not in any rush, no matter how much fun Marianne was and how good she made him feel. He wasn’t ready, and waiting wasn’t difficult. By next Spring, most likely the first day the fairies came out of the rock, he would be ready. That was the plan for their wedding day.

Bog was secure in their relationship, even when they argued and disagreed. He trusted Marianne with his heart. In the afternoon, when he returned to eat and sleep, he would apologize, but repeat his statement. Marianne had to stay in the rock with her family for the winter. It was only one more year, then they would be together forever.

-=-=-=- 

Roland smiled in the mirror, then scowled, running a hand through his now short blond hair. Cutting his hair was the only way to get a position in the closest elf village. Elves were so trusting, they took his word for it that he was from another village and wanted to be closer to nature.

Securing a job in the storeroom was easy, and soon, Roland had access to all the supplies he needed to put his plan into action. Keeping a low profile wasn’t easy, but Roland managed it by staying away from the festivities and gatherings. In a short time, his secure shelter would be stocked full of everything necessary to support two fairies through the cold winter months.

That part of Roland’s plan out of the way, he would have to work on the next one. When would the first frost occur, and where would Marianne be when it did? For his plan to work, he needed to grab the fairy princess before she could be married to that loathsome monster. Winter meant he had a limited window to act.

Roland planned to grab Marianne and hold her throughout the winter, just she and him, alone, deep in the forbidden land. By the time Spring came around, Roland was confident she would come around to accept him as her husband because it was likely she would be pregnant by then. Then they would be married, and it wouldn’t matter what the Bog King had to say. Fairy law would overrule any goblin protest. He would be King and have an army, pardon his father. Then when King Dagda passed away peacefully in his sleep one night in the near future, he would take his army and wipe out the goblins in the dark forest.

-=-=-=- 

“I’m sorry for how I acted this morning.” Marianne caught Bog off-guard with her apology. He looked at her suspiciously, then smiled, pushing it all away.

“I’m sorry we have to do this.” Bog took her in his arms and hugged her tightly against his chest, nuzzling the top of her head. “But I promise ye, I will be obnoxiously present all the time after we are married. Ye will get sick of me.”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” laughed Marianne. “Let’s get something to eat and sleep. Well, you sleep. I’m going to go over the list of events my father has for me. I’m also supposed to let him know what afternoons I will be present in the Fairy court.” She worried her lip, looking up at Bog. “He wants me there four days a week, and it’s after lunch.”

“Oh.” Bog nodded, frowning. “No more afternoons keeping me company?”

“You have your duties, I have mine.” Marianne sighed, hugging Bog back tightly. “And running two Kingdoms between us will be time-consuming.”

“As long as ye make time for me.” Bog squeezed her tighter for a moment. “Let’s see what mom is cooking and enjoy today. I have my own court this evening. Ye should go down and see my new throne room. The goblins found an intact deer skull with gnarled antlers still on it! I’m impressed with the fairies and elves who figured out how to take it apart and get it inside and made a throne for me and ye.”

“My father is going to love that,” laughed Marianne, thinking back to Bog’s prior throne, which looked suspiciously like a human’s spine and pelvis. Her father would have died seeing that. A deer skull would also be repulsive, but not nearly as much, depending on what the fairies and elves did with it. She suspected it would be arranged tastefully for fairy standards and still give off the look of primal regalia that suited Bog.

-=-=-=-

The throne room was situated in the largest part of the cavern beneath the area that would be there home. A flight hall led directly from the throne room to the living space in the rock that protruded above ground. Fairies, elves, and goblins were all over the place, carrying loads of rock and dirt, carving out ornate columns in the existing stone, and all hard at work.

A partially deconstructed deer skull, bleached white by the sun, was in the middle of reconstructions on an upraised dais. One rack of impressive antlers with a dozen twisted tines rose up behind it. Pieces of a second rack were bundled nearby. Marianne was impressed as she walked around the towering antler, nibbling on a spiced vegetable pocket.

“When it is done, we will have a throne for two.” Bog grabbed onto the antler and pulled on it, checking to see how steady it was. “And all of our children can play in the tines while we hold court.”

“How many kids are you planning on us having?” Marianne laughed, noting how expansive the single antler was. As a child, she would have loved playing in something like this.

Bog’s face turned bright red, and his jaw dropped open. “I did not intend to imply a lot,” He stated quickly, unsure of where this conversation would go. “Enough? I mean, I don’t know. How many do you want?”

“More than two.” Marianne smiled, taking another bite of her pie. “Not immediately. I’m not sure if I can wrap my head around having one.” She went silent, staring at the half-eaten pie in her hand. “I haven’t really thought about it. I know at some point it’s going to happen, I hope.”

“Whatever ye are comfortable with.” Bog came up behind her, dropping his arms loosely around her. “I just hope they are healthy and look more like ye than me.”

“Ugh, Bog, don’t say things like that. There is nothing wrong with the way you look.” Marianne turned his arms to face him. “It’s not as important as you think it is.”

“If I looked like a handsome fairy, do you think I would have hesitated to make contact with your kingdom? Knowing how beautiful your people are and how hideous I am, do you wonder why I didn’t desire to leave my forest?”

“You’re not hideous,” sighed Marianne, then she smiled. “The children love you. They draw pictures of you and me. You scare them, and they love it because you are going to be their King too, and you’re scarier than any monster.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Bog smiled despite his words. It was true. Whenever Marianne took him into a village, the children would gather around them and mob their princess and her fierce guardian. Bog acted scary, the children would run from him in mock terror, then return. They weren’t afraid of him. Marianne loved seeing Bog interact with children and how they responded to him. 

“Three or four,” Marianne stated, smiling up at the antler and envisioning some blend of her and Bog climbing up there. Something small and wild, filling the throne room with laughter. “Boys and girls, we can raise to be fierce warriors.”

“If they want.” Bog loomed over her shoulders, hugging her from behind again. “They will have that choice.”

“Yes. A choice neither of us really had, did we?” Marianne leaned back, finishing her lunch. “If the girls want to be warriors, they will have that choice.”

“And if the boys want to sit around and read books, they will have that choice,” chuckled Bog, “However, I would expect all of them to know how to defend themselves and use a sword or a staff.” He paused in thought. “I don’t even know what a female of my kind looks like. I don’t know what a baby looks like.”

“Most likely, small, pink, and soft.” Marianne laughed, “That’s what fairy babies look like.”

“But I’m not a fairy. I’m a goblin,” grumbled Bog. “I’ll ask my mother.” He hesitated again, staring at the antlers. “Can fairies and goblins have children together?”

“I’m sure it will be fine.” Marianne worried her lower lip, thinking. It wasn’t something she considered before this conversation. Marianne recalled the conversations with her father, months ago. Goblins don’t have wings. For some reason, nobody told Bog he was a fairy. She didn’t want to be the one to break it to him when she didn’t have any proof or know what kind of fairy he was. “You know who we should ask?”

Bog groaned, running a hand over his head. “She’s still mad at me.”

“With good reason, you wanted to lock her up again,” scolded Marianne.

“I don’t know if she would even talk to me about something like this.”

“We can ask her together?”

“I’d rather do it alone,” grumbled Bog. “I’ll bring her a gift. I know she loves amber.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of Bog's oblivious moments. :D I accept this thing, because I wasn't told otherwise and nobody has offered it up as a suggestion, the whole: Uhh, you're the ONLY goblin that has wings. Doesn't that make you just a tiny bit suspicious that you're not actually a goblin? :D Maybe it's just: I'm the King, so I'm special in this way. That and Dad always hating on fairies. :D So NOBODY has outright told him this, but someone is about to.
> 
> I wrote part of the next chapter shortly after I began writing the first part of Metamorphosis, because I liked the scene so much.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bog visits Sugar Plum to ask questions and receives unexpected answers, one of which WORRIES Marianne for some reason he doens't understand.

Bog cut his afternoon nap short. Even with Marianne curled up in his arms, he was restless. He wanted answers and needed them immediately. Sugar Plum was one of the oldest, if not the oldest, beings in the Fairylands. If anyone knew about fairies and goblins, it would be her.

Carrying the biggest piece of amber Bog had in his possession, he flew to Sugar Plum’s workshop, where she had made her home once again. He knew she would not be pleased to see him and was prepared to make apologies. A lot of apologies.

With a sigh, Bog landed on the main door to Sugar Plum’s workshops. The fairies and elves who were standing there scattered when he approached. Bog grunted at them and knocked on the door, then waited, hoping Sugar Plum would speak to him.

He waited for over an hour before the door opened, and Sugar Plum peered through the crack. “Still here? What do you want?” She hissed.

Bog bowed low, not looking at her, holding out the amber. “I have a single question that you may know the answer to.”

“Why should I even talk to you?” Sugar Plum kept the door open, her voice laced with anger. “You tricked me and imprisoned me then tried to trap me again. How do I know this isn’t another trick, Bog King?”

“Let me ask my question. I will leave the amber whether ye answer me or not.” Bog held the amber out, speaking earnestly.

“Go ahead and ask.” Sugar Plum rolled her eyes and opened the door a tiny bit more, but prepared to flee inside if he made any move toward her. Bog set the amber down, put his hands up in the air, and maintained a non-threatening posture while stepping back. He held his wings low and relaxed.

“Can a goblin and a fairy have a child together?” Bog looked up, hoping she would answer. 

Sugar plum pushed the door open further, studying him. “Bog King.” Sugar Plum began carefully. “A goblin and a fairy will always produce fairy offspring.”

“Oh, good!” Bog shook his head vigorously, happy to hear the answer, plus the extra information. “That means any child we have will look like Marianne.” Now he had even better news since he couldn’t imagine having a child that looked anything like himself. That would be torture for the poor kid and not something he would ever wish on anyone.

Sugar stared at him, scrunching up her face at Bog’s words. “Bog King. Why are you so thick? YOU are a fairy. You’re just a different kind than Marianne.”

Bog’s jaw dropped at the news. He had never even considered the possibility. “You are a fairy of the wilds, a Dragonfae. Marianne is a fairy of the field.” Sugar Plum explained. “Whatever child you two have will look like either of you or both of you. Oh, and hybrids are often twins.” Bog stared at her. “It’s a wonder you do not have a twin.” He swallowed hard, still stuck on the revelation that he was actually a fairy and not a goblin at all. “Goblins don’t have wings, you idiot. Haven’t you noticed none of the other goblins have wings?”

“I uh, never considered it. I’ve never been told goblins don’t have wings, and because I was told I’m a goblin, my entire LIFE and I DO have wings, I didn’t know.” Bog rambled, a look of confusion on his face. “My father hated fairies so much. I don’t understand.”

“I knew your father, Bog, he hated fairies, his own kind, because of their politics.” Sugar Plum hovered outside her door and onto the branch in front of Bog. “They did not listen to him when it counted, and he lost everyone. His entire family. Friends. His people, because of fairy politics.”

“Yes, he told me that story, but not once did he mention they were fairies, and so was he.” Bog went over that old conversation. Not once in his life could he recall his father stating they were fairies when he constantly insulted their ways. “I’m a fairy?”

“A Dragonfae.” Sugar Plum nodded. 

“What can you tell me about Dragonfae?” Bog looked at Sugar Plum eagerly.

“We are not friends, Bog. Your idiotic choices imprisoned me for how long?” Sugar Plum hissed at him, hovering back. “Would you like me to repeat that story right now?”

“No. No. No.” Bog waved his hands in front of him, backing up further. “What can I do to gain your forgiveness?”

“I’ll take your firstborn child.” Sugar Plum folded her arms and glared at Bog. The look on his face was one of pure horror at the thought.

“Why would ye ask for such a thing? I can’t do that.” Bog wrung his hands.

“And it is just as difficult for me to forgive you.”

Bog nodded. “I deserve that. Thank you for the answers you gave me. I am sorry for what I did to ye.” He turned, preparing to leave.

Sugar Plum sighed. “Bog, wait.” He looked over his shoulder, hesitating. “You were my best student because of your innate magical nature. I can’t have you siring a generation of fairies who will undoubtedly inherit your nature and watch them run around the kingdom squandering all that potential.”

“Marianne said ye told her she didn’t have any potential.” Bog stated.

“She’s royalty, they have a passive magical nature, just like you. They are born leaders,” explained Sugar Plum. “It is different from what you have since you can tap into your power and use it; however, you see fit. Your children will most likely have both, meaning they will need to be taught, and if I’m going to end up teaching them, I guess I do need to forgive their idiot father.”

“I will bring ye so much amber, Sugar Plum.” Bog bowed. “Thank you.”

“I forgive you, but I don’t want to see you again until your first child is born,” grumbled Sugar Plum. She picked up the massive chunk of amber, almost bigger than she was, and flew inside her workshop. “Goodbye, Bog!” She shouted back as the door closed.

Bog smiled, turning to leave. He shook his wings out, then took off for home. He knew what he was now and could stop referring to them as ‘my kind.’ Dragonfae? It sounded appropriate. He couldn’t wait to tell Marianne.

-=-=-=-=-

Marianne showed her little sister and Sunny around her future home. The inside was mostly complete, but still needed more insulating and glass for the windows. It was nowhere as big as their home in the rock castle, but it was big enough for the three of them. Originally, Griselda wasn’t going to live with them, but she insisted she wouldn’t be a bother, and Bog adjusted his building plans to give her a little room of her own on the opposite side of the tree trunk.

Rooms could be quickly built around the trunk, going up or down. For now, there was a small living area with a stone fireplace, a large kitchen, dining room, bathing room, and three bedrooms. One of the bedrooms would be a guest room for visitors, the other was a nursery off of Bog and Marianne’s room. Furniture was in place, but only the bare minimum. Decorations would go up soon, and that’s where Dawn came in.

Dawn flitted around Marianne’s bedroom, constantly talking about what would look good. Amber and amethyst colors were a beautiful combination, and Dawn started talking about curtains, tapestries, and bedcovering. Marianne smiled, giving her hyperactive sister a patient smile. Sunny rocked back and forth on his heels.

“Bog’s not letting me move in until we’re married, Dawn, remember?” Marianne folded her arms. “So I’m pretty sure he’s just going to grab an armful of grass and toss it in the bed frame. No curtains, no tapestries, no bed covers.’

“Oh, but that’s no fun!” Dawn grumbled in dismay. “Why again?”

“Because he’s incredibly mean.” Marianne smirked. “However, I do want you to make sure all of that stuff is here in the storage room, Dawn.”

“Good! Do you think Bog would be upset if we went ahead and decorated the walls? Wood is nice, but this place needs color.” Dawn spun around in the open area in front of the flight balcony. “It’s going to be wonderful waking up in here with the morning sun coming through the windows! You have a good view of both the forest and the field.”

“Bog planned it that way.” Marianne nodded.

“Marianne, you aren’t going to end up sleeping in a bed of grass, are you? It sounds awful?” Dawn pouted at her big sister, walking up to her on her tiptoes. 

“I can always sleep on Bog,” Marianne stated in mock seriousness.

“But he’s so,… pointy.” Dawn didn’t get the joke. Nor did she get why Marianne burst into hysterical laughter.

“You are definitely not ready for marriage!” Marianne attempted to catch her breath, turning red in the face.

“Oh, yes, I am!” Dawn grabbed Sunny’s hands and began dancing. “We’ll dance all night!” Sunny grimaced and turned beet red with embarrassment as Marianne laughed so hard, she had to sit down.

“Bog has this ridiculous worry this place won’t be warm enough during the winter, and he has to make sure it is, so we’ll get married when we leave the rock in the spring.” Marianne ran the back of her hand over her eyes. She smiled at Sunny and Dawn as they awkwardly danced around the room. Their height difference made it difficult, but they were sickeningly cute together. 

In a whir of wings, Bog landed on the flight deck and walked inside. “Oh, we have guests?” He looked around and sighed. “Not ready for guests.”

“Dawn’s helping us decorate,” chuckled Marianne. “She also brought you two new robes.”

“I have more clothes than I want to wear,” moaned Bog, then he bowed and smiled at Dawn. “Thank ye, Princess Dawn.”

“But I like seeing you in them!” Dawn walked up to Bog and wrapped her arms around his waist, giving him an affectionate hug. “You look good in them.”

“Thank ye, Dawn.” Bog patted her on the shoulder, then smiled in Marianne’s direction. “I have good news!”

“The visit with Sugar Plum went well?” Marianne scooted over on the bed frame, patting it to indicate Bog should sit next to her.

“It did.” Bog nodded, unable to move with Dawn, clinging to him. “It turns out I’m not a goblin. I’m a fairy. A dragonfae.”

“Oh, I knew you were a fairy!” Dawn squeezed him, then let go to dance over to Sunny, who was trying to escape notice.

“Yeah, goblins don’t have wings,” stated Marianne. “My father told me your father was a fairy.”

Bog scowled, tapping the butt of his staff on the floor. “But ye didn’t mention that to me?”

“I didn’t know how to bring it up when you were so proud of being a goblin?” Marianne smiled sweetly at her husband-to-be. 

“Well, then yer going to love this, Love.” Bog walked up to Marianne, giving her a lopsided smile. “Sugar Plum said hybrids will look like either me or ye or a blend and typically are twins.”

The smile faded from Marianne’s face, and the color drained with it. “T’twins?” Her jaw dropped at that little bit of information. “T’twins haven’t been born to any fairy in the kingdom in the last hundred years.” Her stomach twisted at the thought, and she wished Bog hadn’t found that out.

“It doesn’t please ye?” Bog knelt in concern, taking Marianne’s hands in his. He kissed them gently in turn. “Marianne? Are ye okay? I thought ye would be happy.”

“It’s just not common,” sighed Marianne. “So, it’s kind of scary.”

“Goblins have twins all the time,” grunted Bog thoughtfully. He smiled. “You’re my tough girl, it’ll be okay.”

“I’m sure it will be.” Marianne was still troubled by the news. “We have plenty of time to prepare.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might as well put this one up too, but I WILL hold off on the next one!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tribute hunt is being held for the Bog King and Marianne, to supply rabbit furs for the upcoming winter for winter cloaks and blankets as well as meat.  
> Marianne, being Marianne, won't heed Bog's warning that she won't enjoy seeing them hunt and insists on coming along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll start updating this on Mondays. I like schedules.

“Oh, come on!” Marianne chased after Bog. The trees overhead were laden down with gold and orange. They still had a few weeks before the frost was likely to come and Bog was trying to get Marianne to go home. “It’s not too cold!’

“Fairies have no business flying around in the forest at night hunting, Marianne.” Bog scowled, holding his staff out in front of him. “Please return home.”

“But it’s a tribute hunt for us,” argued Marianne. “I should get to watch and participate if I want.”

“Marianne.” Bog flew directly in front of her, glancing down at the assembled goblins below. “We’re hunting rabbits. Ye do not know how to hunt, and it’s unnecessary for ye to watch.”

Marianne crossed her arms. “And I can’t participate or watch, why?” Her amber-lit eyes glimmered dangerously.

Bog sighed, rolling his eyes and knowing what would happen when he said it. “Because I said so means nothing to ye. It’s killing and will disturb yer fairy sensibilities. Is that a better answer?”

“I want to at least watch.” Marianne scowled.

“If it gets too cold for ye, we will have to return home early.” Bog pointed out.

“I will be fine.”

“Okay, but I will tell ye I told ya so if we don’t end up with any rabbit fur tonight. Keep close to me, but up high. I don’t want ye out of my sight, Love.” Bog scowled, sweeping low over his goblins. “Let’s go!” Marianne soared after him with a grin on her face.

-=-=-=-=-

Marianne threw up after witnessing the first rabbit’s death. The goblins hunted efficiently, with Bog using his aerial advantage to shout out orders. A still-living creature repeatedly shrieked, unable to escape death as goblins mobbed it, weighed it down, and ripped out the throat. Blood went everywhere, and the body twitched as the skin was removed expertly along with the entrails.

“Don’t look away. Ye wanted to come.” Bog stated grimly, hovering next to Marianne. “Normally, I would get the liver in the first kill, but I will abstain because ye are here. They’ll take it to mom to prepare for us tomorrow.”

Marianne ran the back of her hand over her mouth and gagged. “I’ve never seen something die before.”

“It died quickly.” Bog scowled. “Every part of it will be used or consumed.” The goblins had the body cut up into smaller pieces and were already carrying it away. He looked at Marianne, frowning at how sickened she looked. She ignored his warning and found out he had a valid reason for not wanting her to join them. “Let’s go. We need four more. Ye don’t need to watch the next ones now that ye know why it was I didn’t want ye to join us.”

“I will hear them.” Marianne shuddered.

“Yes, ye will.” Bog nodded sympathetically. “In yer dreams.”

-=-=-=-=-

The night turned chilly, but they had six rabbits by midnight. Marianne ended up spending the early morning hours curled up on a comfortable chaise near the fireplace in their home. Bog closed all the doors and windows against the cold. Still, the only place Marianne was warm was by the fire with a soft blanket wrapped around her.

Bog fretted and worried when he should have been asleep. Marianne witnessed first hand just how concerned he could be when it came to her and the cold. Her overprotective love walked around, tracking down every little cold spot and marking it to fix in the morning.

Repeatedly, Bog returned to the living area, checking on Marianne’s comfort. She would wake up on occasion at the sound of his wings rattling nervously, worried blue eyes fixed on her. Bog began singing, a panicked look on his face, and Marianne drifted off to his voice.

>   
> Sing me a song of a lad that is gone,  
> Say, could that lad be I?  
> Merry of soul he sailed on a day  
> Over the sea to Skye.
> 
>   
>  Mull was astern, Rùm on the port,  
>  Eigg on the starboard bow;  
>  Glory of youth glowed in his soul;  
>  Where is that glory now?
> 
>   
>  Sing me a song of a lad that is gone,  
>  Say, could that lad be I?  
>  Merry of soul he sailed on a day  
>  Over the sea to Skye.
> 
>   
>  Give me again all that was there,  
>  Give me the sun that shone!  
>  Give me the eyes, give me the soul,  
>  Give me the lad that’s gone!
> 
>   
>  Sing me a song of a lad that is gone,  
>  Say, could that lad be I?  
>  Merry of soul he sailed on a day  
>  Over the sea to Skye.
> 
>   
>  Billow and breeze, islands and seas,  
>  Mountains of rain and sun,  
>  All that was good, all that was fair,  
>  All that was me is gone

-=-=-=-=-

By morning, Bog was a wreck of worry for Marianne. Their home was not warm enough, and he needed to work on it, but by morning’s light, he missed his normal half-sleep and had things to get done before afternoon. He sat in a chair, fretting, watching her sleep. She was peaceful by the fire, which he kept burning. The warmth didn’t extend beyond the room they were in.

Bog had never made a home before, and the worries overwhelmed him, coupled with a lack of sleep. He got up when he heard his mother in the kitchen.

“Good morning, Bog.” Griselda had a warm fur robe tied around her and greeted her son cheerfully. “How did the hunt go?”

“Six rabbits.”

“Oh, that’s a good number. Can you go down and see what we have for breakfast?” She didn’t seem to notice just how exhausted Bog was.

“Yes, Mom,” He turned, stretching his wings out and flicking them. “There should be a liver. Please don’t wake Marianne. She had a long night.” Bog yawned and walked to the hall that would take him to the stairs. They were wide and tall enough he could fly down them.

“Bring me a mushroom too.” Griselda began loading wood into the bottom of the oven.

-=-=-=-=-

Marianne was in the kitchen talking to Griselda about the night’s activities when Bog returned with a large chunk of liver wrapped in brown paper and a mushroom cap the size of Marianne’s head. “Good morning, Bog!” She greeted him enthusiastically.

“Good morning, Marianne.” Bog smiled, setting the bundles down on the counter for his mother. “I’m going to take a nap. Wake me when it’s ready.” He shuffled out of the kitchen.

Marianne looked at Griselda and sighed. “I’m going with him. I don’t think he got any sleep.”

“Okay.” Griselda nodded and shook her head. “Sometimes, he does that. He’ll be fine.”

Bog grumbled, retreating to the bedroom. The walls were covered in pleasant tapestries, and curtains blocked off the flight balcony. The room was colder than he wanted, reminding him of all the work that needed to be done. The bedframe was full of soft grass, a temporary filler until spring.

“Bog?” He wasn’t aware she was standing behind him until her hand touched his back. He shivered and looked sleepily over his shoulder. “I’m sorry I worried you.” She wrapped her arms around him and leaned her head against his back.

“I love ye, Marianne.” Bog sighed. “Ye can take care of yerself, but there are some things we can not fight, like the cold. Ye cannot fight it, and I can not fight it for ye.”

“I’m fine, Bog, why don’t you get some sleep and don’t worry about me.” She stepped back, dragging her hand down his back, lightly touching him. He shivered and smiled. With a yawn, Bog wearily settled into the bed, nestling down into the grass and allowing his wings to go slack.

Marianne joined him, lying down in front of him. Bog’s face was drawn and tight. He fell asleep immediately and wasn’t smiling like he usually did. She sighed, biting her lower lip and lifting her hands to caress his face. When Bog worried about something, it was serious.

It wasn’t Winter yet, only Fall. If Bog worried this much about her when it wasn’t even freezing, he would worry every moment of the winter if Marianne did what she planned to do. As much as she wanted to be with him over the winter, it wasn’t worth what it would do to him.

Marianne sighed, pushing herself up on her elbow. “I’m sorry I worried you.” She leaned over to kiss Bog on the cheek and smiled. “I love you, My Dark King.”

Careful not to disturb him, she left to begin her own duties. The plans went away. Marianne would do what Bog told her to do and remain in the stuffy fairy castle with the rest of the fairies for winter. Anything else would be selfish on her part and disrespectful to Bog’s judgment. He was much older than she was, so when he actually worried, it was for a reason.

Bog outright ordering Marianne was annoying because she did not like being told what to do. However, there were times she had to do the same to him, and unlike her, he listened. He might grumble about it, but he did what she told him to do. A wave of guilt washed over Marianne. She argued with him and pushed constantly. Last night had been the worst. And because she didn’t listen to Bog, she could still hear the dying cries of all those rabbits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marianne could get very annoying in her insistence if Bog wasn't so patient and didn't love her so much. :D A little realization that maybe always defying your mate isn't a good idea goes a long way, especially when Bog rarely does it to her.
> 
> The song is the second version of The Skye Boat Song. This translation was done by Robert Louis Stevenson. It flows a bit better than the original, but if you look them up (On youtube), they're beautiful lullabies and I figured this would have been one Bog's father would have sung to him as a child.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bog and Marianne make a spontaneous decision with winter coming faster than expected.

The smell of smoking meat filled the air around the ancient oak tree for weeks. It wasn’t an unpleasant smell, and Marianne was becoming accustomed to it. Living with goblins meant she had to try new things, and one of them was rabbit. The forest was full of them, and Bog explained that they hunted and smoked as much as they could to last through the winter. 

There would be a feast tonight in the field around their home, and it would be one of her last days outside the rock castle. One of her last days of freedom. Elves and fairies were invited to the feast, and some had already passed by in curiosity. Roasting pits were set up with large chunks of rabbit meat on them to give their visitors their first taste of wild game.

Goblins would eat anything, but they preferred meat. Bog walked around with a strip of rabbit meat in his mouth all morning, grossing out Marianne. They would eat rabbits all winter, but it would be smoked and dried, not roasted. The goblins ate all morning and afternoon, little bits of rabbit all day, working up to the feast tonight. Marianne tried it, and it wasn’t bad. It would take getting used to because this was what she would be eating next winter.

“Marianne.” Bog landed next to her on the rock. “I have something for ye.”

“Oh?” Marianne turned to him with a smile, flicking her wings out behind her.

“It’s in our bedroom.” With a shy smile, Bog lifted off and flew to their flight balcony. Marianne followed close behind, eager to see.

-=-=-=-=-=- 

Bog pushed a golden orange curtain aside with his staff for Marianne to enter the room ahead of him. She walked in with a smile, looking at a fully decorated room. The last time she was here, it was only half-finished. Now, the walls were covered in beautiful tapestries. Decorative curtains hung in the corners, all the beautiful soothing color of the amber stone in Bog’s staff.

Deep purple drapes hung from the ceiling around their bed. Shimmering gold designs were embroidered into the drapes. The glowing amber light in the middle of the ceiling was decorated with gold in ornate flowery designs. Their bed was made up properly with a moss-filled pad on the bottom and lined in soft rose petals. Rabbit fur blankets covered the foot of the bed.

There was a desk against one wall and shelves full of books. Two comfortable reading chairs sat near a small fireplace. The room was cozy and warm. Marianne walked around it, taking in how nice it looked and how much she wanted to spend the night here.

“I finished it last night. It was warm all night.” Bog set his staff against the wall and walked past her. “The true test will be after it freezes. I can make changes during the winter.”

“You haven’t changed your mind?” Marianne sat on the pile of furs, running her fingers over them. It was the first time she saw the rabbit furs from the tribute hunt. At the time, she wasn’t sure how she would feel about eventually sleeping on furs. 

“No.” Bog frowned. “Next spring, Marianne, Love.” He returned, holding a bundle wrapped in gold paper and tied with a purple ribbon. “To keep ye warm when I can’t.”

Marianne took the gift and slipped off the ribbon. The paper unfolded to reveal soft golden brown fabric. She stood with a smile, gripping the garment and letting the paper fall as she shook it out. In her hands, she held a long cloak that shifted from a lovely golden color to light brown, depending on how the fabric fell. It was lined with white rabbit fur.

“Bog! It’s beautiful!” Marianne hugged the cloak to her face.

“This is from the rabbit ye witnessed die,” stated Bog gravely. “I thought it fitting for ye. We use everything.”

“It’s fine, Bog.” She walked up to him and tilted her head, expecting a kiss. He leaned down and grabbed her, pulling her forcefully against him, pressing his lips to hers. The next few minutes were a blur of Bog’s hands moving over her back, around her wings, dragging his nails firmly over her skin where he could. He went to her neck nibbling, licking and biting passionately over every inch of exposed skin, doing things he had never done before. 

Marianne was caught off-guard to a point she couldn’t even think to respond. Her typically restrained husband-to-be pulled her as close as possible, covering her in overwhelming affection, then he abruptly stopped with a smile, licking his lips. 

“In the spring,” whispered Bog. “Don’t wear so much clothing, and nothing ye care about.” Then he kissed her on the base of her neck, to her mouth again, taking his time as his nails dug lightly into her hips. “Because I’m greeting ye like this, and I don’t care who’s watching.”

Marianne inhaled deeply, her cheeks flushed and heart racing. For someone who was usually shy and still blushed around her, what he just did was a preview of things to come. “In that case, let’s do the ceremony, Bog. I’m sure I can get dad to do it.”

“I wanted to bring ye back here.” Bog stared into Marianne’s eyes with a wistful expression. “I’m not comfortable with being married and then having ye away from me, that and not knowing how cold it will be here if ye stay.”

“We do the ceremony, but you won’t bring me here until Spring. I’m doing what you want by staying in the castle during the winter.” Marianne smiled. “We won’t complete it until you bring me here.”

Bog nodded slowly. “Okay.”

“We’ll have a public wedding for everyone to witness afterward. Nobody will care that we’re already married.” Marianne reached up to touch Bog’s face. “I love you.”

-=-=-=-=-=- 

Dagda knit his eyebrows at his daughter and future son in law. “I thought you were waiting until Spring to get married.” 

“We won’t know what day that will be, Dad.” Marriane began. “This way, I can move into our home immediately.” 

“I’m afraid I’m not following your logic, Marianne.” Dagda gave them a bewildered look. “You want to get married right now, but you won’t consummate the marriage until Spring? Seriously, I uh,... thought... “He gestured from Marianne to Bog and back again, his face turning red. 

“No.” Bog grunted. “I believe in proper order, for many reasons. We’ve discussed this. If there is any possibility of Marianne becoming with child, I would be unable to fulfill my duties to my people while she is here. This way, we can immediately fulfill our commitment without risk.”

“The two of you can’t do anything in the usual way, can you?” Dagda gave them a wry smile. “Please, when you have children, I hope for typical births.” He opened his desk drawer to retrieve a few sheets of paper. 

“About that.” Marianne grimaced and delivered the news. “Sugar Plum says they will likely be twins. 

Dagda dropped the papers, his face going pale as he stared at his daughter in disbelief. 

“That was my reaction too,” sighed Marianne, slipping her hand over the desk to lay it on her father’s. 

“It’s been over a hundred years since the last twins were born in the Fairylands,” gasped Dagda. 

“Why do you all react the same way to a twin birth?” Bog scowled. “Goblins have twins more than singles.” 

“Twins have a way of changing our world,” coughed Dagda. “One child will be exceptional, the other will bring ruin.” Bog frowned, deeply disturbed by the statement. 

“No,” growled Bog, immediately shifting into a defensive posture. “Do not ever say that again!” He slammed a fist down on the desk, shaking it, then recovered his senses, remembering why they were there. “This is a silly superstition.” He looked at Marianne. She looked back, her amber lit eyes shining in concern. “I apologize for my outburst.” Bog turned back to Dagda, head lowered. 

“It likely is,” sighed Dagda. “But it will worry the people if you have twins.” 

“Dad, we don’t know for certain.” Marianne ventured. 

“Sugar Plum wasn’t worried. She promised to train them to use the magic she said they would inherit from both of us.” Bog flexed his fingers, cracking his knuckles, working through his agitation. 

Dagda nodded, picking up the papers he dropped. “I had a feeling you wouldn’t wait, and I have the documents here for you to sign after you say your vows in front of me. What you choose to do when you leave here is none of my business. This is a binding marriage agreement. I can give you a few minutes to go over your vows.”

“I have mine,” muttered Bog, casting a furtive glance in Marianne’s direction.

She bit her lower lip and squirmed, “I can go second?”

“Marianne.” Dagda held out the second sheet of paper. “These were your mother and I’s vows. Take what you want out of them.” She nodded, taking the paper and looking it over. “Let me know when you’re ready.”

Bog looked around the room, avoiding looking at the paper. He spent months going over his vows, refining them, and making them perfect, even though he didn’t intend on speaking them until Spring.

“I’m sorry,” Marianne whispered to Bog. “I thought I would have all winter.”

“It’s okay.” He smiled back, then studied the titles of the books behind Dagda’s back. “This needs to remain a secret. If my mother finds out, she will not leave me alone about it.”

“Of course, Bogdan.” Dagda smiled, waiting for his daughter.

-=-=-=-=-=- 

Dagda took a deep breath, standing behind his desk. “This will be a simple ceremony.” Bog stood tall, holding Marianne’s hands in his, facing her. “I, King Dagda, stand witness to my daughter, Princess Marianne of the Fairylands joining King Bogdan of the Dark Forest in holy matrimony. A union not to be taken lightly as it unites our Kingdoms as one. Marianne, do you enter this union of your free will?”

“I do.” Marianne’s brown eyes gleamed as she looked into Bog’s eyes.

“Bogdan, do you enter this union of your free will?”

“I do.” Bog smiled, unable to hold anything back, fighting with his emotions. 

“Marianne, your vows.”

“I, Marianne, of the Fairylands accept this bond of marriage to you, Bogdan, to stand by your side with my sword in hand, ready to meet whatever the future brings. I will never turn my back on you. I will be there when you need me, now and forever. I will stand by you in war and peace, in sickness and health, in the warm and the cold. I will respect, honor, and cherish our bond.” Marianne spoke clearly, not taking her eyes off Bog’s. His soulful blue eyes were full of emotion as he began his vows. 

“I, Bogdan of the Dark Forest, accept this bond of marriage to you, Marianne, to stand by yer side, loving ye every day as much as I loved ye the first day I saw ye. I give ye my heart as ye give me yers, and I will treasure our bond from now to eternity. Ye are everything I am not, exquisite, exceptional, elegant, my beloved Marianne. Ye are the fire in the winter and the rain in spring, Summer’s moon, and Fall’s glorious crown. Ye are love in all its chaotic magnificence, and I will honor, love, and stand by yer side from here to the end of time.”

Dagda stared at the two for a moment. Bog trembled, gazing into Marianne’s eyes, and she had the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. “I now pronounce you, husband and wife.” They didn’t hesitate, grabbing at each other for their first passionate kiss as a married couple, regardless of who was watching. Dagda quickly reached up to run a hand over his eyes. It was all so romantic, and after his time with Bog, he was more than happy for their union.

“Marianne.” Dagda smirked at her daughter. “Those were my vows, not your mother’s.”

“They were more fitting,” laughed Marianne, glancing at her father before kissing Bog again. 

-=-=-=-=-=- 

By the time Bog and Marianne returned to their tree, the festivities had begun with roaring bonfires set up around the field. Goblins danced, and there was food everywhere. Elven bakers were heaping pies up on tables and various other baked goods that had been traded for. The brightly lit field was full of fairies, elves, and goblins dancing and having a good time.

Nobody thought anything was out of the ordinary with the fairy manning one of the carts that came in laden with bags of grain to be delivered to the goblins. Roland kept to the shadows, a drab traveling cloak pulled over his wings in case anyone, namely Marianne, might recognize their pattern. 

Tonight was the night Roland chose to put his plan in motion. He had a few spies watching Bog and Marianne, keeping track of their comings and goings and listening for gossip. It was going to get cold tonight, and the prediction was the first frost would be tonight, early in the morning. Roland intended to be back in his little secluded hideaway before then, but first, he had to get to Marianne without Bog being nearby.

The rumors stated that Bog and Marianne did not spend the night together, with Bog remaining here at the tree and Marianne returning home before sunset. Because there was a party tonight, Roland assumed she would not leave until after dark, most likely escorted by that monster.

Roland took a moment to watch Bog and Marianne dancing near one of the bonfires. He was close enough he could see the firelight glowing over Marianne’s face, lighting up her features. He scowled, watching the pair kiss and break away for a moment, then do it again, whirling around each other with reckless energy. 

What did she see in that creature? Roland couldn’t figure it out. Bog was one of the ugliest things he had ever seen and did not in any way outshine him. He was a monster, and soon, Roland would take the one thing that made him behave. Everyone would see Bog for what he was when Marianne became Roland’s wife.

-=-=-=-=-=-

Bog hovered around Marianne with wild abandon, enjoying their dance in the bonfire’s light and how it cast the most beautiful glow over his beloved. Dagda warned them before they left that Marianne needed to be in the Fairy Rock before the oncoming chill would make it impossible for her to fly. The cold was coming sooner than expected.

Tonight was their last night together for months. Bog needed to keep watch over his goblins, most of which would be retreating to their winter burrows to hibernate following the festivities. He would only be allowed entrance in and out of the fairy castle during the warmest parts of the day. Rules were tight since they almost lost a certain little fairy princess years ago.

Their time together over the last month steadily decreased with the shortening days and their commitments to their people. They rarely had time to enjoy each other, making every moment precious. Bog planned to dance with Marianne as late into the night as he could get away with until she was so tired she couldn’t fly. He would carry her home and say goodbye, unsure of when they would see each other again.

Bog swore this would be the last and only winter they would be apart, gazing into her eyes as they danced, hand in hand around the flickering fires. A year and a half ago, he saw her for the first time from afar, this glowing beacon of light that was untouchable and called out to him. Now, here she was, in his arms and in his heart, and he loved her with everything he had, and she returned it. The two of them were made for each other, two parts of one whole, and if it wasn’t for his fears, he would take her into their home tonight and seal their commitment. 

Instead, he looked away from the welcoming lights in his windows and pulled Marianne into another whirling dance, filled with laughter and so much playful touching and kisses. He would be miserable without her in the morning, but tonight, his lovely bride was in his arms and kissing back. So many warm, passionate kisses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always think of Bog being more on the ball than Marianne when it comes to things of the romantic nature. ::D Probably working over his vows repeatedly the moment marriage was mentioned, while Marianne would put it off until the last moment.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roland makes his MOVE and it's going to have dire consequences for everyone involved.

Despite the chill, Marianne felt nothing but warmth inside. She had the cloak Bog gave her wrapped around her adding to her warmth as he carried her over the moonlit fields. He wore a similar, wilder appearing cloak of rabbit fur over his body. Bog handled the cold better than she could, but he was not immune to it.

Marianne’s wings were tucked up under her cloak, which helped keep her warm. Fairy wings were made to release heat, keeping them cool by circulating blood outside their bodies. It worked great in the summer, but during the winter, it made them more susceptible to cold. Bog’s wings didn’t serve the same purpose, which was why he spent the hottest parts of the day in the summer sleeping and in the shade. He would overheat much faster than Marianne.

Bog’s wings beat steadily as he zipped up to Marianne’s flight balcony. He set her down, and they stood on the railing for a moment, kissing one final time. “I will come as soon as I’m allowed.” Bog whispered, nibbling on Marianne’s ear.

“You better.” Marianne purred against his neck, kissing and nipping. 

“I will.” He tilted his head up, eyes closed, exhaling a cloud of warm breath. “That feels so good.”

“You did it to me,” giggled Marianne, taking a step back, noting the chill incoming and beginning to shiver. “I thought you’d like it too.”

“I’m… going to take precautions, just in case.” Bog sighed, smiling at Marianne, his hands lingering on hers. “Just in case.” He repeated softly. “Good night, Marianne, My Love.”

“Good night, Bog, My Big Softie.” Her eyes danced, and Bog chuckled.

“Our little secret.” They kissed again, a long lingering one, then Bog turned and left. “Get inside before ye get a chill, Love!” He spun in the air and took off for home. Marianne smiled, remaining on the balcony to watch him until he was out of sight. She sighed, clutching the cloak to her body, thankful for the warm gift.

A cloud of blueish-white dust swirled around Marianne’s head, causing her to sneeze. She blinked and glanced around, her vision blurring and head swimming. Her legs gave out from under her, and she fell back into someone’s arms.

“Good evening, Marianne, so nice to see you.” Roland’s voice rang through her, sending Marianne into a panic. She reached for her sword, but her arms didn’t respond. “You don’t need this.” The sound of metal hitting the rock balcony echoed around her. “This won’t take long.”

Roland gathered Marianne in his arms, took a glance in the direction Bog flew, then took off as fast as his wings could carry him.

-=-=-=-=- 

Bog felt something tell him to look back. He couldn’t explain it. There was a gentle prod that he needed to look back at Marianne, and he did it in time to see a flicker of movement flying away from the fairy rock in the opposite direction.

That wasn’t right. No fairy should be leaving the rock this late on a night that would soon be too cold for them to fly. There weren’t even any guards standing outside. Bog turned and flew back to her flight balcony. The doors were closed, and he hesitated, then knocked on them. She should still be here. 

There was no answer.

Bog began breathing fast, then pushed the doors open. They were unlocked. He stepped inside, took a quick look around and not seeing Marianne, ran out onto the balcony and took off in the direction he saw the fairy fly. Marianne should have been in her room. The lights were not on, and the door was not locked from the inside. He also couldn’t smell her presence inside, and he should have been able to.

Worry gripped Bog, and he flew as fast as he could over the fields, flying low to the ground, head up, trying to catch whatever faint smells there were in the air. He was hunting, and while his senses were not as sharp as his fellow goblins, his more primal side still held the ability to track by smell, and he caught Marianne’s scent along with that of a male fairy, a scent that sent a jolt of urgency through him. It was vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place it, other than this male was a threat.

With a snarl, Bog flew harder, keeping his wings from making a sound as he pursued them. Whoever this fairy was, he was going to regret taking his wife and endangering her life. He would reach them, kill the intruder, then get Marianne back to her castle before the frost hit. Bog had no choice in the matter. It had to be done.

-=-=-=-=- 

Roland pressed on into the darkness. His wings were beginning to feel the cold, but he was halfway home. That was when he heard the angry buzzing sound behind him and glanced back to see the moonlight reflecting off transparent wings. Bog rose up above the ground, intending on closing the distance as fast as he could. 

“Argh!” Roland faltered in panic, then put on a burst of speed. He could keep up his flight longer than Bog could. His wings were bigger and propelled him faster in a straight line. Unfortunately, he had additional weight on him, carrying Marianne’s limp body.

Running through his options, Roland detoured off his direct path, heading to the looming form of the falling down farmhouse, planning to fly through it and lose Bog. He knew the way from his exploration and could do it, even in the steadily decreasing light. Bog would be in for a big surprise if he attempted to follow him.

Roland saw the first pixie guard near a busted hole in the roof. It blinked at him, brandishing a small spear. The pixies knew him well enough; they didn’t bother with him when he passed through. They were merely a nuisance and didn’t threaten him unless he threatened them. Bog would inevitably threaten them, and they would amass on him in a fury, preventing him from following. Then he would vanish into his hideaway, and Bog would never find him.

Marianne began stirring, wriggling in Roland’s grasp. He just had to hold her long enough to get to the other side and dust her. One of Marianne’s wings dropped out of her cloak and caught a ray of light.

-=-=-=-=- 

Bog snarled at the first pixie, batting it aside with his staff to follow Roland inside the house. The first one squealed, and half a dozen more appeared, screeching and jabbing at him with long pointed sticks. With a roar, Bog swept them away and looked for where the fairy he pursued was. 

The air was suddenly full of pixies, screaming and swarming up ahead. They were barely a quarter Bog’s size, but there were so many he was forced back. He caught sight of what the pixies were after, a glimpse of Marianne’s wings. They were poking at her prone form on the floor, dancing around and touching her wings, lifting them, and moving her.

Bog began fighting his way to her, snarling and batting the annoying little creatures out of his way. They were human-shaped with tiny wings and had scraps of cloth randomly arrayed around them, but only seemed capable of communicating in squeaks and growls.

The wind shook the house, sending a blast of cold air through the cracks. The pixies screeched and flew around in panicked swarms. Bog flew through them, calling for Marianne. She was nowhere in sight, and he wasted more time circling and fighting off random pixies, smashing several with his staff.

“Bog!” Marianne called out to him from somewhere in the house. “Help! They’re everywhere!”

“Keep yelling, Marianne! I’m coming for ye!” Bog flew toward her voice, the howling wind outside threatening to drown her out.

-=-=-=-=- 

Marianne grumbled, ripping a piece of her tunic to wrap around a long gash on her leg. She had come to in Roland’s arm and immediately put up a fight, then he dropped her and pixies swarmed, pulling at her wings and hair, poking her with sharp sticks. She had been stunned for a moment, still suffering the effects of the sleeping powder, then the creatures began dragging her toward a hole.

She fought them but ended up crashing into the hole anyway and falling a good distance down into the house. Her leg hit something sharp on the way down, and her final landing knocked the breath out of her. 

“Bog!” Marianne shouted after a few minutes to recover. The moment she did, pixies noticed her and came closer to investigate. She cringed away from them as they mobbed her, reaching for her wings.

Pixies. They were pixies, and they were everywhere. Marianne remembered the warning Bog gave her about the pixies, but she couldn’t be quiet. Bog was up there somewhere. She could hear him fighting with the pixies. 

“Bog!” She shouted again, trying to get to her feet. Pain shot through her injured leg. The cut wasn’t the only injury. Her ankle was bruised and swelling rapidly. Groaning against the pain, Marianne pulled herself up on a piece of wood and fluttered her wings, checking for other injuries. The moment she did, the pixies swarmed on her again, touching and grabbing at her wings, overwhelming her with their numbers.

“Get away!” Marianne shrieked, batting at the small creatures. They scolded her, and a few hit her with their sharpened sticks, eliciting yelps. “Bog! Bog!” She looked up and saw something large fly over the opening. “There’s a hole where they dropped me! I’m down inside it!”

“I see it!” Bog’s form flew over the opening again, blocking out the little light there was. 

Marianne ran her hands over her arms, thinking about what she could do. It was dark, and the sides of the opening above her were barely visible. She stretched her wings in an attempt to fly, and screeching pixies swarmed on her, grabbing and pulling with their tiny clawed hands. 

With a yelp, Marianne fell, pain shooting through her injured leg. Every time she opened her wings, pixies flew at her. She couldn’t fly, and she couldn’t climb. Marianne whimpered again, pulling her feet under her and wrapping the warm, rabbit lined cloak over her cold legs. 

The wind screamed outside, bringing with it bursts of cold, chilling air. The air rapidly grew colder, and Marianne knew she didn’t have a lot of time if she couldn’t remain warm. She pulled herself in, pulling her hood over her face and tucking her arms into her sleeves. Her wings were folded tightly against her body, reducing their surface area.

“Bog!” She called out again, making sure he knew she was in the same place. The pixies withdrew, not as interested in Marianne as the cold increased. She began trembling, the cold seeping through the floor and into her legs.

-=-=-=-=- 

Bog snarled and roared, sweeping his staff at the pixies who were still plaguing him. Their sticks could not penetrate his armored plating or even his skin, but their numbers kept him from getting to Marianne. Each time he heard Marianne’s voice call to him, it was weaker. 

The number of pixies suddenly decreased as a blast of cold air shot through the house, dragging with it snowflakes. Bog gasped at the sight of them. It was too cold! Then the pixies vanished, done with their defense as more snow blew into the opening.

He wasted no time flying down into the hole and inside the old human house. Finding Marianne was easy. She was directly beneath it, curled up in a tight ball, shivering. “Marianne?” Bog dropped down behind her and reached out to touch her. “Love.”

“Bog.” Marianne lifted her head, her teeth chattering and managed a smile. “Home.”

“I know.” Bog took a moment to make sure Marianne had the cloak tucked around her, sliding her wings beneath it. He winced at the sight of her leg, but that was a problem they would see to when he got her home. Bog lifted her off the freezing floor and bundled her close to him, pulling his cloak over her as added protection. “I’ll get ye home.” He whispered, taking off.

-=-=-=-=- 

Getting Marianne home was easier said than done. Bog flew out of the house and into a snowstorm. The icy cold wind struck him and attempted to force him into the ruins of the home. Small snowflakes pelted him, sending icy cold water over his face and neck as they melted. It was uncomfortable, but he was confident he could make it if he followed the treeline.

Flying in the trees protected him from the wind. If he went into the field, he would be forced to fight against it. This meant that he would not bring Marianne to the castle, but to their home. It wasn’t what he wanted to do, but it gave her a better chance at surviving.

Marianne was worryingly silent, her shivering the only indication she was alive. As long as she kept shivering, Bog knew her recovery would be easier. If she stopped shivering, she could die.

Bog flew as fast as he could, blaming himself for this turn of events. Why had he denied Marianne her request to be with him? Their home was safe and secure. It was warm, and the worst thing that would have happened to Marianne is she would have been stuck sitting by the fire all winter. She would not have been kidnapped, swarmed by pixies, and injured. She would be safe with him.

Now, her body felt so small in his arms, held tightly against his chest. He tried his healing on her but wasn’t sure if it had any effect. His staff was freezing cold in his hands, but he could see lights up ahead. Home was a few minutes away, and he would carry his wife inside, but not the way he wanted to. 

Marianne stopped shivering.

-=-=-=-=- 

Bog slammed into the exterior door, shouting for his mother to open the door. They were shielded from the wind and snow on the small sunning porch Bog had built, but they couldn’t remain outside for long, and the only other way in was going through an entrance in the rock.

“Mom!” Bog shouted, kicking the door again.

“Bog?” Griselda jerked the door open and swiftly moved aside to allow him in. She blinked at the bundle he carried. “Bog?” She slammed the door behind him and locked it, sealing out the cold.

“We need to warm Marianne. Someone tried to kidnap her, and I got her back, but she’s so cold.” Bog waited for his mother to tell him what to do. “Mom?”

“Take her to your bedroom. Get her cold clothes off and cover her.” Griselda moved into action. “Put blankets by the fire to warm. I’m going to make some tea and see if we can get her to drink. I’ll help you get your armor off. You need to get everything off and warm yourself first.”

Bog wasted no time doing as his mother told him to do, relieved he didn’t have to worry about Marianne being mad at him later for what he had to do. At the same time, he was upset that this wasn’t how he wanted to see his wife in a full state of undress for the first time. Bog pulled off her cloak and tossed it aside, then went to work, figuring out how her tunic came off. 

His hands brushed over her wings, and both of them broke and crumbled in his hands. Bog panicked, staring at his hands and the brittle fragments of Marianne’s once beautiful wings. What had he done?! He began breathing hard, ripping fabric, and shakily getting her into their bed. He laid Marianne gently in the rose petals and pulled a soft blanket over her, then two fur blankets. A third and fourth blanket was laid over the chairs in front of the fire, which he threw more fire bricks into, flooding the room with more heat.

Bog stood in front of the fire, removing his fur cloak, then the festival garb. The armored plates he didn’t need help with came off next, beginning with his arm guards. Griselda came in and rushed to Marianne, leaning over to check her pulse and breathing. She was pale and unconscious.

“Mom,” whispered Bog mournfully. “Her wings broke off.”

“What?” Griselda’s eyes widened. “That can’t be good. We need to get her warmed up.” She rushed over to Bog, helping him undo the straps on his chest armor. “I will take care of warming the blankets. As soon as you are warmed up, you need to lay with her. Body to body contact will help warm her safely. I will bring you some tea.”

“We were married earlier today.” Bog informed his mother. “Officially by her father. So we could be together as soon as we could in the Spring. I should have brought her home tonight instead of taking her to the fairy rock.”

“Oh, Bog.” Griselda shook her head, undoing the last buckle. “Don’t blame yourself for this. You couldn’t have known this would happen, any of this. She’s here. Marianne is strong. She will survive.” Griselda took a step back. “Get warmed up, Son. I expect grandkids next year.”

“Mom,” groaned Bog, tossing his armor aside and removing the cold, wet layers beneath it. “No.”

-=-=-=-=-

Marianne kept her mind on warm things, cozy blankets, warm furs, sitting by the fire, kissing Bog. She knew she should fight the desire to sleep, but it came anyway, overwhelming her senses. There were words she wanted to say as Bog carried her, but she couldn’t speak through her chattering teeth.

Consciousness came and went. She was aware of being laid down on rose petals as their scent filled her world. Warm blankets weighed her down, then hands touched her, and she heard familiar voices.

Each time Marianne became aware of things going on around her, she drifted into a deeper sleep in between. The last brief consciousness brought her the most welcome sensation of a warm body wrapping around hers, holding her close. Then she heard Bog’s voice, telling her he loved her and not to leave him. Then he sang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marianne's sword fell out of sight into the darkness. :D It bothered me, but should be implied that because it was dark and it was thrown aside, likely to the far side of the balcony, Bog didn't see it. No guards, because of the cold. Wow, they are defenseless from things like this, but Marianne should have also been in the rock earlier, safe and sound.
> 
> This particular scene with the pixies was one I wanted to get to since I started writing the first story!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marianne wakes up!

Bog and Griselda worriedly tended to Marianne through the night. Her color returned, and her body grew warm, but she did not wake up. Bog went about his duties, with his mother tending to Marianne in his absence, but returned quickly when they were done. The goblins that hibernated were deeply asleep, and snow covered the fields and forest. The remaining goblins complained about the chill in the rock, and Bog had to work up plans to make it warmer.

On the third day, Bog walked in on his mother, looking at Marianne’s back. “Something interesting is going on.” Griselda turned to her son. “I’m not sure why she’s unconscious, but her wings are growing like yours do when you shed them.”

“Mom.” Bog sat on the bed next to Marianne, reaching out to touch her bare shoulder. “Did you know Dad was a fairy?”

Griselda frowned at Bog. “I did.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It wasn’t important.”

“Not. Important.” Bog rolled the words around in his mouth. “It was important to me.”

“Does it matter?” Griselda sighed. “Your father didn’t want me to tell you for whatever reasons, and I respected it.”

“I see,” grumbled Bog. “What are we going to do about Marianne?”

“Let her sleep until she wakes up.” Griselda shook her head. “That’s all we can do. She appears to be in some sort of hibernation.”

“I’ve tried to wake her up, and she doesn’t respond. I hope she isn’t going to sleep all winter.” Bog gazed at his sleeping wife. She looked warm and comfortable like she was taking a nap. His attempts at healing her injured leg worked but didn’t affect whatever was going on with her now.

“Give her time.” Griselda sighed.

-=-=-=- 

Several more days passed with Bog worrying over Marianne. During his day and night half sleep, he slept with her in his arms and was reluctant to leave her. Each morning, he hoped to awaken, looking into her eyes. This wasn’t how he envisioned their first days as a married couple.

A week went by, and Marianne stirred, snuggling up against Bog in the night. At first, he didn’t realize she was waking up, thinking he was dreaming about hands wrapping around his waist and lips pressed to his. He opened his eyes and found Marianne looking back at him.

“Bog,” Marianne whispered as he blinked at her in disbelief. “I feel weird.”

“Yer awake.” Bog hugged her tightly, smiling. “I was so worried. Ye’ve been out for a week, Love.” 

“I need to get up,” grumbled Marianne. “My back is itchy.”

“Probably because ye lost yer wings.” Bog sat up as Marianne did. 

“I what?!” Marianne clambered out of bed and wobbled to the fire. She reached back, and when she did, her wings unfurled, wrinkled and wet from the thin casing that typically coated them when regrowing. Bog stared in wonder as she turned around in front of the fire, flexing her new wings, flaring them out to dry. “We don’t drop our wings in the fall!”

Bog stared wordlessly. First of all, his beautiful wife was naked. Second, she stood in front of a fire in a dark room, the gentle glow washing over her. Third, her wings had grown back shorter and thinner. They were half the size of her previous wings but still held the beautiful random black lined fringe. Brilliant blue that shimmered purple lit up half of her upper wings, but the rest of the upper wing was transparent, like Bog’s. Marianne’s lower set of wings was similar.

“I feel warmer.” Marianne stared at her hands, then at Bog. “Wait, I’m naked.”

“Very naked,” stated Bog appreciatively. “And we’re married. Uh. Go to the mirror and look at yerself.”

“I know what I look like naked, Bog.” She rolled her eyes and grumpily crossed the room, self consciously lifting her hands to cover herself, eliciting a chuckle from Bog.

“I’ve already seen ye!” He rose to follow her, not put off by how irritated she looked, his wings twitching excitedly.

Marianne froze in front of the mirror, her eyes drawn to her wings. She flicked them and blinked. Then she turned to examine them, flaring them out and twitching them in turn. “What happened?”

“I know as much as ye do,” murmured Bog, his own wings twitching excitedly. “I am so glad ye are awake. Are ye hungry? Thirsty? I will bring ye something.”

“Starving.” She spun on her heels and headed for the door, only to have Bog jump in front of her, coughing.

“Yer still naked, Love. Remember, my mom lives here too.” He spoke gently, attempting to redirect Marianne to putting something on. She looked at him for a moment, then crossed the room.

“I guess it’s good I had clothes brought here for me,” grumbled Marianne. She glanced at Bog, “Because I had a plan, I abandoned to accidentally end up trapped here with you.”

“What?” Bog scowled at her. 

“I was going to, but I decided against it because I didn’t want to worry you.” She sighed, opening the door to the closet. She stepped inside. Bog could hear her getting dressed and seriously considered joining her and putting a temporary end to that. “I guess fate had other plans.”

Marianne emerged a few minutes later, tugging at a purple tunic and black leggings. She walked up to Bog with a smile, flicking her wings. He smiled, leaning down and met her lips in a slow kiss. “You’re going to be the death of me.” Bog murmured.

“Hopefully not.” Marianne sighed, patting him on the chest and noticing he wasn’t wearing armor. “Thank you, Bog. I’m sorry, I’m a little off right now. I’m so hungry!”

-=-=-=- 

Bog sat across from Marianne, watching her eat with a smile on her face. Griselda was up, and the moment she saw Marianne, she put a kettle on the stove to brew water for tea and brought out a tray of cold fruit pies. 

Marianne ate ravenously. She was never the type to pick and eat a little of anything she liked, but she was so hungry, she ate three pies before stopping to drink a glass of fruit juice. Then she had another pie and two cups of tea. After all the food, Marianne yawned and thanked Griselda, then took Bog’s hand and led him back to their room. He more than happily followed.

-=-=-=-

A snarl shook the pixies from their sleep. The sound made them cower in their burrows and whimper in fear. A new creature lurked in their secure home, and they were trapped with it, unable to leave their shelter. Whatever it was had claws that clicked on the wood and a ravenous appetite. The smell of blood was in the air, and the sound of wings filled them with terror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before I even began writing Metamorphosis, that last scene was in my head. >:D Hehehehe...
> 
> Bog's still stuck on the fact nobody told him he was a fairy. :D Still one of those things that, uh, look in a mirror, Boggy, you look more like a fairy than you think you do.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roland finds himself changed.  
> Bog isn't nearly as happy about Marianne's new wings as she is.

Roland awoke to darkness, a ravening hunger urging him to consciousness. For a week, there was nothing but cold and he awoke shivering several times just below the place where he had run into a beam and knocked himself. He couldn’t move. Then the downed fairy found himself awake and hunting something in the darkness. Before he could stop himself, a curious pixie was in his clawed hands, being torn apart and consumed. 

Next, there was a mouse. That one was fun, because it was twice as big as Roland and he didn’t use his sword. Temporarily sated and brought to his senses, Roland left the house and flew to his hideaway to clean up. He flew with new wings, half red and black with cream markings like his previous wings that gave way to translucent gold. 

The first thing Roland did when he reached his home was look in a mirror. At first, he scowled, his noble features were more defined and his perfectly straight teeth were pointed and fanged, no longer flat. There were other changes. Roland stood taller and felt stronger and warmer. He had no use for shoes with clawed feet.

And the best thing, Roland figured out that the cold didn’t bother him. He was free to come and go as he pleased. Not only that, he was sure Bog rescued Marianne, which meant she survived and he still had a chance. He lifted a clawed hand, examining it. Like this, he could stand up to Bog physically but more importantly, he could out think him.

Roland had goals and worked out his new plan with a fang filled smile. He would kill Bog and take what he wanted.

-=-=-=-=-

“Marianne, we don’t need to go outside.” Bog scowled, following his overly excited wife to the door that led to the sunning porch. He busied himself with adjusting a long black robe over his body, pulling the hood over his head. It was one of the new ones Dawn gave him with beautiful gold designs stitched into it.

“I need to go outside!” Marianne pulled her golden cloak around her body. “I need to test my wings!”

“We can go down into the cavern.” Bog nervously wrung his hands as Marianne unlocked the door and opened it. She giggled as a blast of cold air hit her. Bog sighed and followed her out onto the deck into the snow.

“It’s okay, Bog.” Marianne danced out into the snow, her wings flicking behind her. The sun was up and shining, but it was still cold. Bog hovered after her as she took off into the overhanging branches, moving slowly at first, testing her wings. “We need to let my family know I’m okay.” She landed on a branch and turned to Bog with a serious look on her face. “And I have to show them this!” Marianne spun around, fluttering her wings. “We don’t have to stay in the rock during the winter!”

“Marianne, Love,” Bog frowned. “There is some reason your people don’t go through this change. We need to be careful and figure out why.”

“Knowing my people, it’s probably something like an aesthetic they don’t like.” Marianne rolled her eyes, flying around the tree. “The cold isn’t bothering me like it was!”

“That’s good.” Bog landed on a limb and watched her, concern etched into his face.

“Bog.” Marianne dropped in front of him, reaching out to touch his face. “Why aren’t you happy for me?”

“Because there is a reason yer people don’t do this and I need to know why,” scowled Bog. “At the same time, I do not want to know. Yer people are so strange about accepting things that are not ordinary to them. What yer father said about our children.”

“We don’t have children yet, Bog.” Marianne smiled, wrapping her arms over his shoulders and trying to kiss him.

“Marianne,” Bog evaded her, stepping back. “It won’t matter if our children look exactly like ye, if they are born twins, that superstitious nonsense will follow them.”

“I don’t believe it. Isn’t that what counts, Bog?” Marianne danced around him.

“But others will!” Bog scowled. “They will be judged by your people by their birth.”

“Bog.” Marianne stopped her antics, realizing this was a serious conversation. “We don’t have children and when we do, they will be princes and princesses of two kingdoms. They will be loved. Now, I know I’m excited, but I don’t intend to fly home today. I want to test my wings and see how long I can fly and tolerate the cold while we’re close to home.”

“Okay.” Bog glowered and looked out at the field with a sullen expression. “Ye are taking everything well.”

“Because I am with you.” Marianne attempted to put her arms around him again and he let her, but stood stiffly, as though unsure of what to do next. “It’s all I ever wanted, to be with you.”

A smile spread across Bog’s face and he took a deep breath. “Yes. That is all I wanted.” He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly, noticing how every breath fogged up the air in front of them, but unlike the night he left Marianne on her flight balcony, she was not shivering. “Do you know who took ye?”

“I do.” She sighed and laid her cheek against his chest. “Roland is back. Did you see what happened to him? He dropped me when the pixies swarmed us and I didn’t see him after that.”

“I did not see anyone but ye,” snorted Bog. “Ye were my concern, Marianne. Ye almost died.”

Marianne flicked her wings, something she was doing a lot to get used to their lighter weight. “There are worse things than death, Bog.” She shuddered and clung to him tighter. “I want you to stop worrying about children, Bog. We’re not having any for awhile. One of the reasons I need to go home is to pick up the berries we use to prevent it. I’ve been taking them for months, just in case.”

“Oh.” Bog nodded. “We use an herb leaf. They’re disgusting. I’ve been eating them since I visited Sugar Plum.”

“It worried you that much?” Marianne frowned at the timing. “Bog, it will be okay.”

“No, I didn’t do it because of me. I did it because ye looked so afraid,” rumbled Bog, running a clawed hand through her hair. “Since we agreed on the spring, I wasn’t too worried, but if we decided to move things along, I wanted to be prepared and it’s a good thing I did. When ye are ready, whenever that may be, let me know and I will stop eating the herb.” He made a face. “Until then, I will suffer for ye.”

“Okay,” sighed Marianne. “Bog, you do realize that there’s always a risk. My mother died because something went wrong our healers never figured out. Having me and Dawn weakened her. Father told us she was sick a lot even before us.”

“But yer strong,” stated Bog sympathetically, placing his hands on her shoulders. “Marianne, this is yer choice and I will live with it.” He smiled and kissed her on the forehead. “So I want to go back inside and play Marianne is freezing, so we need to take off all our clothes and make her warm again.”

“Bog!” Marianne laughed, a light blush spreading over her face. “Let me fly around for a little longer so I know we can make it to the Fairy Rock tomorrow morning. She flapped her wings, just enough to rise up to be face to face with her husband and kissed him, long and slow.

“This isn’t going to make ye cold,” growled Bog with a smile on his face, the air between them fogging up considerably.

“I need to test my wings! Catch me!” Marianne fluttered back, then took off into the tree. Bog grinned, watching the sunlight catch her wings for a brief moment. He flexed his own wings and took off with a burst of speed to pursue her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ... have nothing to say. :D Thank you for reading on this really cold morning!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marianne doesn't get the homecoming she expected.

Waking up in Bog’s arms with bright morning light streaming through their bedroom windows was everything Marianne dreamed it would be. She snuggled up closer to his chest, considering making a no armor in the bedroom rule. 

The room was warm, even though the fire had not been tended for hours. Marianne was too comfortable to get up, and Bog was asleep. Zelda took over his duties for the night hours, leaving them to enjoy the wedding night they didn’t get following the actual event. Marianne tucked her head down, closing her eyes, inhaling the comforting scent of the forest that always lingered around her husband.

Bog muttered, slipping his hands up and down Marianne’s back, beginning to awaken. “Good morning, Love.” He gave her a crooked smile, tilting his head to kiss his wife without opening his eyes.

“Good morning, Bog.” Marianne kissed back, running her hands around to his back as far as she could reach.

“You know, you don’t have any pet names for me,” chuckled Bog after a moment. “None that you use frequently.”

“Pet names are ridiculous.” Marianne scrunched up her face. “I feel weird using them. What am I going to call you? My grumpy pinecone?”

Bog shook the bed with laughter. “Grumpy pinecone?”

“Boggy.” Marianne grinned.

“No.” Bog made a face, then cracked a smile. “Only Dawn is permitted to use that one, my beautiful badass butterfly.”

“Where do you find these weird words?” Marianne laughed.

“Someday, I will show ye,” chuckled Bog. “In the Spring, when I have to make my yearly trip out of the forest. It’ll be a new adventure.”

“Out of the forest?”

“Yes, I will take ye with me, but it is a secret.” Bog began covering her in kisses, shifting to lean over her. “Ye’ll like it.”

-=-=-=-=- 

Marianne’s tolerance for the cold was equal to Bog’s. They dressed warmly for their flight, Bog in his black and gold robe and a fur-lined flight cloak wrapped around his body, Marianne completely covered in a thick long-sleeved tunic over loose pants and fur-lined boots. She wore the golden brown cloak over it and flew effortlessly.

The flight to the fairy rock only took twenty minutes from their tree. Despite knowing Marianne could handle the trip, Bog hovered around her anxiously, watching for any signs of fatigue. She wanted to dart around and play in the snow, but he wouldn’t let her. They flew over a small elf village and caught a glimpse of heavily bundled elves going about their daily business.

Unlike fairies, elves didn’t have a problem with the cold. They bundled up and went on with life in the winter. They still had open markets and restaurants open. Marianne tried to get Bog to land, but he wouldn’t have it, giving her a stern look and promising they would stop on the way back.

By the time they arrived at the Fairy Rock, Marianne’s cheeks were a rosy pink color, but she wasn’t shivering, much to Bog’s relief. They landed at the specified doors and walked in with the elves. The first fairy guard they met stared at Marianne wordlessly, his jaw slack. Bog scowled at him in passing.

Marianne happily flicked her wings, showing them off to stun every single fairy they passed. Bog glowered behind her, shooting warning looks at them. He did not like that she wanted to draw attention to her new wings and the fact that she was out in the cold.

“Marianne!” Her father greeted her with a look of relief on his face, rushing to embrace her. “We found your sword on your balcony! What happened to you?!” Dagda leaned back, hands on her shoulders, looking at her wings with a shocked look on his face. Then he ushered them into his study.

“This was not planned,” groused Bog, folding his arms and leaning against the closed door. 

Marianne laughed, turning and flaring her wings for her father. “Great, aren’t they?” She didn’t see him back away, grimacing and casting a worried look in Bog’s direction. “Roland’s back. He tried to kidnap me off my balcony, and Bog saved me.”

“Yes,” sighed Bog. “I had to fight off swarms of pixies and managed to get Marianne out. I was unable to fly her back here and took her home. She was in the cold for at least an hour. Her wings broke off.” He shuddered at the memory, tightening his folded arm stance. “She slept for a week and woke up like this. Changed.”

“Marianne,” groaned Dagda, his face pale and drawn. 

“What?” She turned and frowned at her father, annoyed that he wasn’t happy about this turn of events. “I’m alive, and I can fly in the winter! We don’t have to be trapped in the rock anymore!”

“Marianne,” Dagda repeated, closing his eyes, inhaling deeply. “Please sit down. I have a story to tell you.”

“Here it comes. We’re all doomed.” Bog growled, expecting another fairy superstition.

“Marianne.” Dagda sat in his chair.

Grumbling, Marianne sat down across from her father. “I almost died, but I didn’t, Dad.”

“And I’m happy about that, but as soon as we talk, you and Bog need to leave and not come back until you shed those… things… and are back to normal.” Dagda stated.

“I told ye, Marianne, there is a reason yer people do not go through this change.” Bog scowled and pulled up the remaining chair, slumping into it in a full sulk.

“It goes back to the last twins,” Dagda glanced at Bog, who gave him a dirty look in return. “King Laine was the elder twin, your great grandfather, Marianne. At that time, a hundred years ago, our people did go through this change as part of normal life. Prince Torbil was his twin.”

“Yes, I know the story,” sighed Marianne. “Torbil was outcast following a plot to assassinate his brother.”

Dagda went quiet, staring at his desk. “That’s not entirely accurate. There is the story about Torbil being outcast, and there is the story about King Laine singlehandedly defeating the monster that broke into the fairy rock and went on a rampage one winter.”

“I know both of those stories. What does that have to do with me?” Marianne scowled at her father.

“Prince Torbil was not a bad person. He was beloved by the people and his family.” Dagda stated. “Every fall, after the frost hits the ground, our people went on with their lives like normal, and gradually, it would become cold enough we would sleep for a week, and our bodies changed. Nothing was wrong with that. We even held a Winter Wings celebration with the first frost. However, Torbil wandered too far and was caught in a heavy snowstorm. He spent the entire week buried in snow, and when he awoke, the change was different in him. Peaceful Torbil became a monster.”

“The monster?” Marianne gasped, putting the stories together. Bog began listening to the story with more interest.

“Yes. Prince Torbil returned to the castle a different creature, and he was attacked, which led to him retaliating, and he was slain by his own brother, King Laine.” Dagda ran a hand over his face. “They discovered his true identity as he died in his brother’s arms. King Laine is the one who ordered that fairies were no longer to go through the change due to the risk of turning out like Prince Torbil. All references to the winter metamorphosis were removed from our history, and no one was ever to go through it again. Only our family knows the truth.”

“So it’s a precaution,” stated Marianne thinking it over. “That was an accident.”

“Marianne, Prince Torbil wasn’t the same person. He was more primal.” Dagda’s gaze momentarily passed to Bog, who lifted his lips in a lopsided grimace.

“Well, at least we have proof the twin thing isn’t true,” grumbled Bog in response. He rose, holding out a hand to Marianne.” Let’s go home.”

“If we take precautions, we will be fine.” Marianne scowled, refusing his hand.

“Marianne, I forbid you to tell anyone about this.” Her father stated.

“You can’t forbid me, I’m an adult!” Marianne shot to her feet, and Bog looked from her to her father.

“I am your King as well as your father,” stated Dagda rising to his feet. “You need to leave with Bog immediately. Do not let anyone see your wings.”

“I haven’t seen Dawn yet!” Marianne’s face turned red, her brown eyes gleaming with anger.

“Under no circumstances are you to show your wings to Dawn.” Dagda scowled. “I’ll let her know you are safe in the tree with Bogdan.”

“This is a ridiculous rule. We should change it. We just have to tell everyone about the danger.” Marianne dropped her hands to her hips, flicking her wings out. “This is a good thing.”

“No, Marianne.” Dagda flicked his wings as well, sending them billowing out behind him in a rare display of annoyance. “This will remain a secret.”

“I’m telling everyone,” snorted Marianne, turning to leave.

“Love.” Bog intercepted her before she could get out the door. “Let’s go home and think about this.”

“No.” Marianne glared at Bog. “Get out of my way, Bogdan.”

Bog took a step back, entirely blocking the door. “No.”

“Don’t you understand? I was terrified of the cold when I was a kid, and now I know there’s nothing to be afraid of!” Marianne shouted at Bog, unleashing her full fury. “I like this! I’m free to come and go as I please without being afraid of freezing to death. Bog, everyone needs to know about this. When I am Queen,” Marianne turned her head to her father. “Everyone will know about this!”

“You are not Queen, and you will not be Queen for as long as I am able to do my duties,” snorted Dagda. “Be reasonable, Marianne.” His face shifted to one of concern. 

“Do not tell me to be reasonable!” She glared at her father, then Bog. “Move.”

“No, yer father is right.” Bog remained in front of the door. Dagda nodded his approval. “But that doesn’t mean ye can’t do this every year, Marianne. Ye just can’t come back here and show everyone, which ye wouldn’t be doing anyway.” Dagda scowled.

“Do what you want when you aren’t here, Marianne,” sighed Dagda. “But, you need to cover your wings now and leave.”

Marianne glared at her father, “We’re not done with this conversation, Dad, but I’ll leave after I see Dawn. I need to pick up some things from my room.”

“Cover your wings,” grumbled Dagda. “I’m glad you’re okay, Marianne, but I will not change my mind. I would have preferred going to my grave never passing on this secret because knowing you, this was exactly the response I expected.” 

“We’ll tuck them under your cloak.” Bog nodded, moving to help her conceal her wings.

“I can do it myself,” snapped Marianne, turning and lowering her wings. She began undoing her buckles.

-=-=-=-=- 

Bog kept his distance, following in the wake of his angry wife as she stormed through the halls on foot, her wings hidden beneath her brown cloak. Marianne went directly to her room and began going through her warmer clothes. Bog quietly sat on her bed, unable to think of anything to say.

Marianne spent a few minutes going in and out of her closet with folded clothes in hand. The garments were placed on a table near her desk. Then she went inside and stayed there long enough to make Bog wonder what she was doing. It gave him additional time to work through how to break through the angry wall he felt between them.

“Bog,” Marianne’s voice came from the closet, calling for his attention.

He looked up, and every thought vanished from his mind as Marianne strode out of the closet, wearing a sheer, glimmering purple nightgown that stopped at her hips. It left nothing to the imagination, and Bog stared, unable to do anything else.

“I was saving this for one of the nights after our wedding,” stated Marianne, with a shy tilt of her head. She stepped across the room, a small box in hand, swaying her hips. Halfway across the room, she opened the box, took out a small white berry and popped it into her mouth. “And this will keep anything we don’t want right now from happening.”

Bog nodded, taking a deep breath. Marianne set the box down with her clothes. She turned back to him with a heated look that made him squirm. The wall was gone, and Marianne had something in mind. Whatever it was, he was more than willing to go along with it as she walked up to him with a gentle, seductive sway.

-=-=-=-=-

Marianne rapped on Dawn’s bedroom door. “Dawn? Are you in there?”

“Marianne!” Dawn yelled from the other side, followed by the sound of something falling to the floor with a heavy thud. The door flew open and Dawn jumped onto her sister, hugging her tightly. “What happened to you?! Where did you go?!”

“I’m fine!” Marianne staggered back, falling against an amused Bog. “I just came back to get a few things.”

“Came back to get a few things?” Dawn leaned back to stare at her sister. “But, there’s snow on the ground.”

“It’s not bad, but we have to leave soon.” Bog spoke up quickly, saving Marianne from telling a lie to her sister. “We will see you in the Spring.”

“Oh,” sighed Dawn. “You’re not staying? I thought Boggy wasn’t letting you stay with him.”

“It’s warm enough.” Marianne hugged Dawn tightly, smiling. “I love you, Dawn.”

Dawn blinked, and a strange look spread over her face. “Hey, waiiiit, Bog wouldn’t let that happen if you weren’t married. Marianne!”

“Yeaaah.” Marianne leaned back, making a face. “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you, but we got married the day before the first frost.”

“What?!” Dawn folded her arms, scowling at her sister and tapping her foot angrily. “And you didn’t invite me? Marianne! BOG!”

“It was just Dad and us,” sighed Marianne. “We’re still having the big wedding in the Spring.”

“But you didn’t tell me!” Dawn persisted, the scowl so unnatural on her usually bright and shiny face. “You should have told me.”

“Things happened.” Bog attempted to sooth Dawn’s anger, smiling at her. “We were unable to return to the castle in time.”

“I’m sure,” grumbled Dawn. “Doing married people things?”

“Yeah.” Marianne nodded, patting her sister on the shoulders with a sigh. “Married people things.”

“We need to go,” stated Bog, turning and gesturing across the hall to Marianne’s room. “We don’t want to be out in the cold any longer than possible.”

Dawn bit her lower lip, staring at her sister, then she smiled. “I love you, Marianne. You too, Boggy. Have a good flight back, and I’ll see you in the Spring.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, why yes, I ran across the pitch to the movie execs comment on tumblr and it came spilling out, because the whole grumpy pinecone in love with a badass butterfly line was so funny. Also, one of Bog's 'human' words. ;) Which of course note that they will be going out to explore the human world at some point.
> 
> I enjoy the fact that many myths have some truth in them, so I applied it here. It was meant as a way to HIDE the winter metamorphosis to those who were children at the time and remembered it, to replace their memories.
> 
> Poor Dagda, of course, it would be Marianne who stumbles into a long held secret that he was going to take to his grave and then threaten to tell everyone. :D
> 
> Bog's right, there's a reason, but at least the twin thing isn't true!
> 
> Now off to go write the next chapter!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winter is boring with little to do... and a certain villain lurking nearby, plotting.

The flight back to the oak tree was not a cheerful one. They left from Marianne’s flight balcony to avoid being seen, locking the doors from the outside. They each carried a bag, and Marianne had her sword strapped around her waist in an old sword belt. It had been left in her room for her if and when she returned.

Bog flew with a smile, trying to think of something to improve Marianne’s mood. Not that she didn’t have a small content smile on her face as well, but he knew she was still steaming over her conversation with her father.

“So, did you notice Sunny was in Dawn’s room?” Bog chuckled, tilting his head at Marianne.

“I did. He does a bad job at hiding.” Marianne smiled back. “Dad is not happy about that.”

“Ah, but he seems okay with me.” Bog turned his attention back to the field they flew over. They chose a longer way home, avoiding the towns.

“Dad doesn’t want Dawn to marry an elf,” sighed Marianne. “Not because he’s an elf, but because he’s not a fairy. Elves and fairies don’t mix as a general rule. As far as I know, there has never been a union between them, and Dad might be worried there won’t be any additional heirs.”

“Ah,” grunted Bog. “Fairies and Goblins mix, so why would it be any different with elves? They’re shorter and don’t have wings, but they look more like fairies than goblins do. Same difference. Sugar Plum told me that when a fairy and a goblin have children, they will always produce a fairy, so I’m curious if it’s the same with fairies and elves.”

“We may find that out someday.” Marianne dipped down near the snow, reaching out to grab a handful. She balled it up and playfully lobbed a snowball at Bog.

“Feeling playful now, are we?” Bog chuckled as the ball of snow splattered over his shoulder and back. He swooped down to scoop up a ball of snow and tossed it at Marianne, who laughed, trying to avoid getting struck. The pair of them darted over the field for the next few minutes, engaging in a vicious snowball battle.

Bog cut off the game when Marianne caught him full in the face with a snowball, and he noticed her own face was red from the cold and exertion. She did have her limits, and because she was Marianne, she wouldn’t admit to it. Bog turned the game into a chase, not wanting to hit her with another snowball and make her any colder.

They skimmed over the fields, through a thick forest of snow-covered plants, laughing and enjoying themselves, until Bog managed to catch Marianne. Her new wings made her faster, but her stamina was lower after the week asleep, and new wings always needed to be broken in.

“Let me go!” Marianne laughed, struggling in Bog’s arms as he carried her closer to home.

“Only if ye promise no more fooling around, Love,” chuckled Bog, holding her securely. “We need to get home, get warmed up, and then ye get to help with my duties.”

Marianne stopped struggling, smiling, and relaxing against her husband, the chill beginning to set in. “I’m just keeping you company while you work.”

“There isn’t as much to do during the winter,” Bog stated. “But I imagine Mom has a list of supplies she needs me to bring up from the storerooms since ye are with us now. I don’t want Mom having to go down there, she’s old and doesn’t get around as well as she used to. She would never admit it, but I notice.”

“I’ll help her out.” Marianne turned so she could see the tree rising above the snow-covered field in the distance. 

“She’s going to start in on kids again,” grumbled Bog. “I, uh, I don’t know what to do about her.”

Marianne worried her lower lip in thought, understanding Bog’s meaning without him coming out and saying it. “Don’t worry about it, Bog, I’ll talk to her.”

“This is yer decision, Marianne, I will not push in any way.” He squeezed his wife tightly. “Of course, I say that, and Mom’s just going to focus on ye.”

“We’ll revisit this in the spring,” sighed Marianne, a smile on her face as they arrived on the snow-covered sunning deck that led to their home. “I know how much you want children, Bog.”

“When it is the correct time.” Bog stated patiently. “Last year, I couldn’t allow myself to entertain the idea because I loved ye, and ye frustratingly didn’t even know who I was… well, ye did, but ye hated me as the Bog King.”

“If you had introduced yourself earlier, I don’t know, things might have gone differently, but I think it would have the same end.” Marianne ran a hand through her hair as Bog set her down.

“Perhaps, except we would be living in my old castle in the forest and not on the border, and honestly, I would have been embarrassed to entertain my beautiful wife in a place in such disrepair.” Bog opened the door, bowing to Marianne with a smile.

She walked up to him and kissed him, “I love you, no matter where you take me.” Bog’s cheeks flushed red, and his smile widened as he followed her inside and sealed the door behind them.

-=-=-=-=-=- 

Roland observed Bog and Marianne from the top of a nearby tree. From there, he could see their cozy little home and had flown around it, examining the entrances and windows, along with the rock down below. Knowing nothing about goblins, he assumed the rock was heavily fortified.

The windows in the structure that served as Bog and Marianne’s home were purposely too small to allow anyone entrance, and the glass in them would be too thick to break. The single door was thick, and another point he likely wouldn’t be able to get through quickly. Breaking into their home or the new castle below would not be easy.

An owl perched in Bog’s tree, where it had a large hollow it could get in and out of the weather if it needed to. The owl was frightening and kept Roland from coming too close. Roland’s only opportunity would be when Bog and Marianne left the safety of their home, and judging by their disgusting antics in the field, Marianne was like him now.

Roland watched her hungrily as she flew, noting her wings changed, but the rest of her was the same. She didn’t change as much as he had and was still a beautiful woman he intended to claim as his, one way or another. He was bigger, stronger, faster, and fiercer than she was. 

Now his choices were laid out in front of him, he could attempt to steal Marianne away again, but with Bog nearby, it would be difficult. He could attack Bog and kill him, which he felt would still require a lot of effort and would bring Marianne down on him as well. Roland went over more possibilities, most of which required patience, waiting, and watching for the right opportunity.

Bog needed to be disabled, his wings damaged so he could not follow. Marianne’s wings, as beautiful as they were, would need to be cut as well, so she couldn’t escape or fight him. Their biggest vulnerabilities were their wings, coupled with the snow. Roland chuckled, flicking his own wings, digging his clawed hands into the bark on the tree branch.

He would bide his time and wait for the right opportunity, but taking out Bog’s wings would be step one, and he would have to do it quickly, then do the same to Marianne, spiriting her off to his hiding place to break her into what he wanted. 

By spring, he would have everything he wanted and more. The fairy kingdom would bow to a new king because he intended to take out King Dagda as soon as he was able. That old, fat fool would never see him coming. 

-=-=-=-=-=-

Bog’s routine winter duties were dull, at least, that’s what Marianne thought as she accompanied him through the tunnels. As usual, Bog took every single task he had, even if it was menial, with the utmost seriousness. No wonder Bog and her father got along very well, something which did worry her at first when they first began working together.

The lists and the order were a constant with Bog as he tried to explain he was returning to the same methods his father taught him to keep track of everything. The same ways that led to a better run Dark Forest, with more numbers, which was Bog’s greatest focus over the prior months. He finally understood the role of love, even it still disgusted him at times.

Every goblin life was valuable, but even more so next spring when the new goblins would arrive, and he had a book listing every pregnant female because he wanted to check on them throughout the winter while they slept. Getting them to tell him was a chore because it was an awkward question after years of Bog’s ban on love in the Dark Forest. They loved their king, but some were still a little afraid of him and his intentions with their children.

Bog had to hold a large gathering, apologize for how he had been, and explain why he wanted to know. The whole thing was an awkward affair with Marianne watching in amusement as her usually reserved future husband had to discuss goblin populations and how they needed to encourage coupling this year and next for the sake of their future. 

And now? There were over two hundred goblins in the winter burrows, hibernating, and almost all the females reported they were expecting. Their numbers would double in the spring, and the goblins would spread into the forest like they used to. Bog explained they would lose over a third of them in the next year, and only a third would survive to adulthood.

Marianne was sad to hear that but understood Goblins were very different from elves and fairies. They didn’t have as long of lives, and in the future, he had plans to return to educating the smarter ones, something he hoped to do with King Dagda’s assistance.

Bog led Marianne through the round stone halls, checking on every burrow, a quick glance to the regular burrows, then on to the next. A single red, wild rose petal hung over every burrow entrance that was a birthing den. More than one female shared the dens, which made things easier for Bog. 

He touched the petal over each burrow after listening outside for a few minutes. It was his way of making sure he got every one of the 27 dens, refreshing the petal with his nature magic so that it was bright red and didn’t wither or curl. For now, the checks were quick, but he informed Marianne he would concentrate on them more in the future.

“So when you’re done making sure there’s a whole bunch of goblins, we’re going to work on making more of you?” Marianne joked with her husband, nudging him in the side.

“Hopefully, not exactly like me,” Bog chuckled softly as they left the last burrow. He closed the book in his hand and reached out for her. “I don’t think that part’s important.”

“You know, the biggest thing that surprised me about you, Bog?” Marianne danced away, playfully evading him.

“What is that, Love?” He crouched, giving her a mischievous smile, flicking his wings in preparation to fly after her down the long hall.

“You, keeping so many books. The Dark King of the Forest, bookkeeping, constantly.” Marianne laughed.

Bog’s smile softened with thought, “Marianne, I’m the only one who can do it, because I let my responsibilities slide. I swear to ye, I will train others to do this over the next few years, but this year, I want them all to concentrate on,” he hesitated and chuckled, “making little goblins and raising them.”

Marianne flew back to him with a gentle smile. “Show me what to do, and I’ll help you.” She held a hand out, and Bog smiled, handing her the book. “Next time, I’ll carry the book while you check, and maybe we’ll get it done faster.” 

“All that’s left is going to the storeroom for Mom.” Bog gazed at his lovely wife. “I didn’t want to trouble ye with doing my work with me.”

“I’m your wife, the Dark Queen of the Forest!” Marianne hovered around Bog. “It’s my responsibility too.” She stopped in front of him, sliding her arms around his neck to kiss him. Bog wrapped his arms around her, leaning back against the wall, returning the kiss passionately, completely forgetting about what was next on his list.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I gotta write the next chapter, but got distracted!!!!  
> I think I know what I'm going to do.. hah.. right as I'm thinking I don't!  
> Right now, just sweet stuff between Bog and Marianne.


	12. Care and Feeding of Goblins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bog and Marianne enjoy wedded bliss together and Marianne has ideas for how to ensure more goblin babies actually make it to adulthood, something which both Bog and Griselda are initially against, since it's just not the way things are done.

The days flew by, lazy days with Bog teaching Marianne about his books, working through ledgers and numbers. Marianne hated math, which thankfully, Bog excelled at. Marianne was better at making suggestions for teaching, running court efficiently, and the things she learned from her own father over the years that went with her royal duties. 

They talked for hours on various subjects, getting into heated discussions on occasion, that ended up in either a sparring session in the half-finished sparring room, outside or behind closed doors. Typically, everything ended behind closed doors.

Griselda joined them for many discussions by the fire, late at night, with Marianne focusing on one subject above everything. She wanted to reduce the dismal survival rate of the goblin children that were going to arrive soon. Bog and Griselda were both resistant to changing how goblins raised their children, running free and wild in the forest, learning from experience. It was the way goblins were always raised.

“If my parents let me run wild in the forest, I would probably not be here,” pointed out Marianne, one evening, standing in front of the fire. “I hated it, but they kept me out of dangerous places. They didn’t let me go wandering wherever I wanted.”

“And yet ye still ended up in my forest when ye were a child,” snapped Bog a little more harshly than he intended, folding his arms.

“Not too far in,” smirked Marianne. “Aren’t you glad you weren’t mean to me or tried to shred my wings?”

Bog’s mouth dropped open in horror, “I was barely a child myself, and I would never hurt a child, not even an obnoxious fairy girl who was where they shouldn’t be. Ye know that!”

“You threatened to put me in a cage and poke me with sharp sticks!” Marianne shot back, crossing the room to lean into her husband’s face and poke his chest plate.

“Bog! You really threatened to do that?” Griselda sat upright, having been sitting quietly up until that point, just listening.

“I wanted to give her a warning so she wouldn’t come into the forest and end up dead.” Bog glanced at his mother then added looking up at Marianne. “Aren’t ye glad I did that, Love?”

Marianne smiled, kissing him on the nose, which brought an immediate smile to his face. She slid into Bog’s arms, sitting across his lap. “Just listen to me. This year, instead of letting the young goblins run free, why don’t we set up an area in the forest and the fields that they are allowed to roam in, that will be patrolled by adults. They can learn under supervision.”

“But that’s not how goblins learn,” snorted Bog, running his hand anxiously along Marianne’s side.

“Have you ever tried it?” Marianne leaned closer, stroking Bog’s chin, careful of the thorns.

“Bog,” Griselda spoke up again, smiling at the two. “When you were young, you were not allowed to wander like the other children. Your father insisted that you stay with us at all times. Way longer than I thought was appropriate and look at you.”

“I’m a fairy, Mom,” sighed Bog. “We do not mature as quickly as goblins.” Marianne’s attention did its job, relaxing him immediately, dragging his annoyance and worry down into a more manageable level. His voice lowered, and he tilted his head, half closing his eyes.

“We should try it this year,” stated Griselda. “What do we have to lose? Having children is hard on the body, and if we don’t have to have as many, then it would be better for everyone. I’m probably the oldest female goblin in the forest because I only had one child.”

Bog grumbled, a smile tugging on the corner of his lips, peering into his wife’s beautiful eyes as her other hand traveled to his lower back. “I don’t know where to begin and how to tell the mothers that I don’t want their children wandering. It’s just now how things have been done.”

“I will help you map out the area and come up with the best way to convince them they should do this.” Marianne kept her eyes on Bog’s, gazing into his soulful blues. “You are the king. They will do what you tell them to do, and you know it. They love you.”

“Dear, most will do as you tell them,” stated Griselda, folding her arms and leaning back into her comfortable chair. “The ones that don’t, don’t force it on them. I suspect most will do as you ask. Perhaps, you should have Marianne ask them. They adore her, and she is the one who will someday be a mother. She is their example of what a woman should be like.”

“Ugh, I’m an awful example!” Marianne threw her head back with a groan. “Nobody should follow my example!”

Bog laughed, one of his good hearty laughs that shook his entire body. “Are ye kidding me? Every woman should be just like ye! Ridiculously crazy, wild, and unpredictable!”

“Hmpth.” Marianne tried to conceal her smile, folding her arms in a fake sulk, her eyes gleaming.

“And loving, compassionate, caring, smart, full of passion and fire.” Bog’s words spilled out in a low deeper tone than usual. “My tough girl.” Then he began kissing her, pulling her close and not caring that his mother was watching.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” whispered Griselda, getting up with a quiet chuckle to avoid interrupting the makeout session in progress.

“And yer my warrior queen,” Bog whispered against Marianne’s mouth.

“Mmhm.” Marianne squirmed, kissing back, her arms looped around Bog’s neck. “And you’re my dark king.”

“Maybe the world only needs one of ye, because ye may burn it down someday,” murmured Bog, kissing down the side of her neck.

“If anything happens to you, I will burn the world down.” Marianne closed her eyes, smiling. “I love you, Bog.”

Bog’s ‘I love you’ vibrated against her neck, muffled in slow passionate kisses.

-=-=-=-=-

Griselda walked back to her room on the far side of the tree, smiling at how happy her son was with his wife and how happy she was for both of them and having a good daughter-in-law. She toned down her encouragements, seeing Bog relaxing more and more around her with his affections toward Marianne.

The older goblin woman smiled, realizing that she was very likely going to live long enough to not only see her dear, sweet boy have love, but also have children. Maybe far more than one. She had wanted a big family, but things didn’t move as quickly as she hoped and Cadeyrn was so much older than she was, it was a miracle they had Bog at all.

She walked in silence on the other side, her smile fading briefly. Before she was a mother, she was a warrior, but like her son, her husband, and even Marianne, didn’t quite fit in with her own kind and never found a mate among them that wanted to be with her or tolerated her deep feelings toward love. She was smarter and more cunning than her kind, which was how she ended up with Cadeyrn, welcoming a mighty warrior among them, realizing immediately he had a sensitive, thoughtful heart. And she became a queen.

Now? Griselda smiled again. She was too old to be a warrior and had been too old for decades. Being a mother was something she embraced with everything she had, doubly so when they lost Cadeyrn. She mothered Bog constantly, and now, it was time to step back, which left her a little lost. Thankfully, both Bog and Marianne invited her to talk with them, seeking her advice more than Bog had in the past by himself. 

Her son was no longer closed off, retreating inside, forgetting that she was there on occasion to be more than just that woman who pestered him about finding someone to love. Where did that leave her? She was the Queen Mother, with mundane responsibilities, keeping everything organized within the castle.

But what she really wanted was those grandchildren to dote upon. With as much activity as she observed going on between Bog and Marianne, that day would not be too far away. She felt a little guilty, having seen Bog chewing on the bitter leaves goblin males used to prevent children. He did it in a way that told her he didn’t want her to know, but she smelled the distinct scent and having been a midwife, knew what it was.

Those leaves didn’t work on fairy males, only goblins. She found that out long ago with some of the wild fairy males that took up with goblins in the wilder parts of the forest. There were small pockets of forest fairies hiding out far away. The guilt came from knowing it didn’t work and not wanting to inform him more because she wanted grandchildren than the fact he hid it, and she wasn’t supposed to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So if Bog TOLD his mother he was purposely trying not to father any children, he could at least stop eating the nasty bitter leaves. :D At least Marianne still has those berries...


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bog and Marianne are getting a little stir crazy and have one of 'those' sensitive kind of conversations.

Sunny bundled up and worried over the two enormous wooden trunks strapped to the white rabbit. He had been tasked to take a special delivery to Bog and Marianne’s home and only planned to be out for a few hours. The sun was out, and the temperature was warm enough; the long trip would be tolerable.

The trunks held warm clothes and gifts to Marianne and Bog. King Dagda asked Sunny to make the delivery because there were also a few items he wanted to make sure went into Marianne’s hands without anyone else reading them. Sunny stood on the rabbit’s back, in the saddle, staring at one of the trunks.

There was no one around, but he knew he heard a muffled yelp come from one of the trunks, and since Sunny had not seen Dawn all morning, he had a feeling he had a stowaway. “Dawn?” Sunny rapped a gloved hand on one trunk and listened. He grumbled, not wanting to open it. “Fiver, down.” The rabbit laid down flat, stretching out so that the trunks almost touched the ground. Sunny scowled, hopping off the rabbit. He grabbed the rolling loading ladder to push it in front of the trunk, locked the wheels, and scrambled up it to open the lid. The trunk was easily big enough to hold a fairy, plus the packed contents.

Blankets, coats, and thick sweaters were piled haphazardly on top, not neatly folded like they were when Sunny checked on them earlier. He scowled and whispered into it, “Dawn!” Then he leaned in, pushing his hands through the blankets until he hit something that squirmed and laughed. “Dawn, you can’t be in here,” grumbled Sunny, pulling at the blankets as she pulled them back. “It’s cold outside. Too cold for you.”

“But I want to see Marianne and Bog,” pouted Dawn as her face was uncovered. “Please, Sunny. If I stay in here with all these blankets, I’ll be nice and warm. It’s only twenty minutes away.”

“Your dad will kill me!” Sunny threw his arms in the air.

“Sunny, I’ll be fine. I’m wearing the robe Bog gave me, and my wings are covered. It’s warm enough in here.” Dawn began pulling the blankets around her again.

“But it’s going to get cold when we leave the stable.” Sunny fretted, glancing around.

“Then, you need to make that rabbit move faster!” Dawn vanished into the trunk. “I’m fine, Sunny. Let’s go!”

Sunny groaned, shaking his head with his hands on the edges of the trunk. “Dawn.”

“Please, Sunny.” She used her most pleading voice, shifting the blanket and batting her long eyelashes at the elf. “I love yooooou.”

“You are so awful,” groaned Sunny, then he sighed. “I didn’t find you until we got to the tree, okay?”

“You’re such a good boyfriend!” Dawn giggled. “Marianne is going to be so surprised.”

“Yeah,” grumbled Sunny. “Please tell me if you get cold. There are villages on the way and stables we can stop in. I love you.” He lowered the lid and locked it. Sunny hesitated, running a gloved hand over his face. The things this princess could get him to do.

-=-=-=-=-

“Ow!” Bog yelped, as the staff in Marianne’s hands caught him in the gut. Armored or not, it hurt, and she was getting good with the goblin weapon, but he still got through it. He stepped back, giving her a wary grin, rubbing the spot she hit.

“Come on, Goblin King! Stop holding back!” Marianne grinned back, aggressively advancing.

“Ye would regret me seriously trying to smack ye, Love,” snorted Bog, fending her off with his own staff. They circled, wings a whir of activity, trying to catch each other off-guard. Marianne was already good, but with Bog’s tutelage, she could probably take any fairy male down, more than one at a time with the staff. Swords were the fairy standard, but a staff in strong arms offered far more defense and versatility. 

“Do it!” Marianne goaded her husband, wanting to try to defend against something more than Bog keeping himself restrained to a little better than herself.

“We’re going a bit stir crazy,” smirked Bog. “Stuck in here every day.”

“Bog!” Marianne charged, furiously jabbing and swinging her staff at him. She almost caught his leg in a vicious sweep.

With a pained sigh, Bog resigned himself to giving her what she asked for, which was likely to put an end to their sparring for the day. His blue eyes gleamed with intent, a look of seriousness falling over his face as he changed his stance. This time when Marianne advanced, he struck her staff with his full strength, sending it flying free of her grip, and the butt of his staff hit her chin hard enough it cut her. Bog didn’t stop there, not wanting her to ask him to do this again.

The full weight of his staff struck Marianne across the ribs, sending her flying through the air, rolling into a stunned heap almost on the other side of the room. Bog flew after her in a panic, dropping his staff to check her over. She was wearing goblin armor for practice, with a thin layer of padding beneath it.

“Marianne, I’m so sorry.” Bog leaned in too close and heard a snarl, following by a fist smacking him in the jaw. He fell back, next to Marianne, landing with a thud on his butt, blinking at the stars floating past his eyes.

“Okay, I deserved that,” groaned Marianne pushing herself up and looking at her hand. There was a gash across her knuckles where she cut her hand on Bog’s face. 

“Well, at least ye learned how to fight like a goblin,” chuckled Bog, shaking his head and running a hand over his now stinging jaw. “And now yer bleeding.” He sighed, his shoulders slumping in shame. “Next time ye ask not to hold back, I’m walking away. Sparring is one thing, tough girl, me using my full strength on ye is another.” He paused, muttering, casting a sidelong glance at her. “I held back.”

Marianne stared at him, pressing a hand to the armor over her ribs, the only thing that likely protected her from having them broken.

“Ye shouldn’t be offended that I’m stronger than ye,” grumbled Bog sadly. “Remember, I’m Dragonfae, not the same kind of fairy as ye. We have different strengths and weaknesses. Yer so amazing, stunning, impressive. If ye keep asking me not to hold back, I’m going to stop sparring with ye, and I enjoy our sessions, Marianne.”

“Bog, I’ve spent my entire life in a kingdom where I was expected to never take a sword in hand, where fairies like Roland belittled me and made me feel weak,” Marianne scooted over beside her husband, leaning against him. “I, uh, think sometimes I just want to keep fighting that, proving to myself that I can do anything they can do.”

“Ye know we are equal, even if we’re different,” grumbled Bog. “I would never brag about being better than ye at anything. There are things ye are better at than me, like thinking differently. Sometimes, I get stuck in simplicity and lack creativity.”

Marianne stared at him, realizing by the look on his face that she hurt him somewhere deeper than the physical punch. She offended him by pushing him to do something unnecessary, and he clearly did not want to do. Not a word was said, but she accused him of being like any other male fairy.

They sat in silence, the fire completely gone for the moment. “I’m sorry. Sometimes I get carried away.” Marianne sighed, slipping an arm around Bog’s back, running her fingers up his spine in exactly the way she knew he liked it. 

“Mmm.” Bog almost purred, shivering and casting a loving look at Marianne. “Ye never need to prove anything to me, love.”

“But someday, I’m going to be a mother,” grumbled Marianne, looking at the floor. “And you’re going to want me to stay with the kids, aren’t you?”

“Kids do grow up,” chuckled Bog, leaning over to squeeze her tightly. “Who better than ye to teach the next generation how to wield a sword when they’re old enough!” Marianne smiled, leaning back against her husband as he began murmuring in her ear. “My fierce warrior queen, and yes, if there’s a threat, I will ask ye to protect them in case I fail. I may ask ye to run. I may ask ye to hide. I may be the one having to do those same things while ye protect us. Who knows. Does it matter? I would trust ye to be the only one to protect what will be most valuable to us.”

Marianne thought about it, mulling Bog’s words over in her mind.

“What matters, my love, is that we do what needs to be done, and when we can, we will stand together, side by side.” Bog kissed her ear as he spoke. “Together, we are stronger. Together, we can take on the world and anything it might throw at us. Sometimes, together means working as one, apart from each other with the same goal.”

“How are you so wise about these things when you’ve never been there?” Marianne laughed.

“My father always helped my mother with me, and I did learn a lot from him. I just didn’t understand how the things he said applied to me until recently,” chuckled Bog, nipping the top of her ear, then going for her neck. “And he did embarrassing things like this to Mom in front of me!”

Marianne laughed, squirming in his arms as he aggressively went for her neck, making a silly growling noise. She twisted around kiss him, only to be interrupted at the sound of goblin feet coming their way.

“Your majesty! Sorry to interrupt!” The goblin skidded to a stop just inside the door, bowing quickly, eyeing his King and Queen on the floor. “We have a visitor and need to know if we should let him inside with his rabbit and delivery.”

“Who is it from?” Bog stood and pulled Marianne up with him, annoyed he missed out on an incoming kiss, and likely another pleasant make-out session with his wife.

“King Dagda has sent some things for you and Queen Marianne. The elf says his name is Sunny and would like to come inside immediately.” The goblin spoke fast, shifting from one foot to the other nervously.

“Let him in,” grumbled Bog, scowling. “We will be there shortly to see what he’s brought.”

“Yes, sir!” The goblin turned and quickly ran back the way he came.

“After you.” Bog bowed, sweeping his arm out for Marianne to walk ahead of him. She smiled, striding past him, whipping her wings out to brush against his arm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How much trouble is Dawn going to be in, on a scale from 1 to 5, 1 being just a little trouble and 5 being Roland level trouble.
> 
> Sensitive conversation brought on by Marianne still being a tiny bit insecure, but more likely just pent up energy and momentarily thinking she could really, physically take down Bog. Thankfully, she would never have to. Yeah, fighting to a standstill in the movie was evident, but it was also evident Bog was out of shape, because he did nothing but sulk on his throne. :D Holding up that skull in the end revealed he's excessively strong. Now, for my setup, I do typically run it as those of royal blood are exceptionally MORE strong than the rest of their people, so Marianne at this point can take out just about anyone as noted. ;)  
> I prefer equals who know that at some points, you do not stand there and argue if your spouse tells you to outright do something in an emergency situation. Obviously, they've already thought something through. I would expect both Bog and Marianne to do this to each other, depending on which one encounters the problem first.


	14. 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dawn discovers Marianne's secret!

Sunny sighed, fretting over what was going to happen and hoping he wouldn’t be dragged into the scene if Marianne and Bog were upset. He didn’t think they would be angry, but he wasn’t sure. While Sunny was friends with Marianne, Bog on the other hand, still saw him as that annoying little elf that broke into his castle twice. The Goblin King terrified Sunny, even when he wasn’t trying to.

“Sunny, nice to see you! How’s Dawn?” Marianne flew across the entry to greet Sunny without thinking about what she was doing. Sunny stared at her, eyes wide in wonder as she landed in front of him and leaned down to give him a quick, friendly hug.

“Your wings…” Sunny gaped, leaning around Marianne to stare at them. “What happened to your wings, Marianne?”

“Oh,” groaned Marianne, running a hand over her face. “You aren’t supposed to see them, but now that you have!” She turned, proudly flaring her wings to show them off. Sunny stared.

“Marianne,” grumbled Bog, joining them. He strode past her and grumbling more, flicked the locks open on the closest chest, curious to see what was inside. “Don’t. Ye remember what yer father-”

“Surprise!” Blankets and garments flew out of the box as Dawn leaped out to grab for Bog, catching his pauldrons in her hands before he could react. He made an undignified yelping sound as the petite fairy princess hugged him with a delighted squeal. Dawn tilted her head to her sister, and her delighted smile faded into a gasp.

Marianne made a face, her wings were still flared, on full display. She snapped them down, as though hiding them now would work. “What, what are you doing here?” Marianne stammered, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. “Dawn!”

“Oh, wow!” Dawn used her grip on Bog to climb out of the trunk, wrapping her arms around his neck to force him to grab her and keep her from falling.

“Dawn,” Bog grumbled, setting her down. “Ye shouldn’t be here.”

Dawn ran her hands over her silvery grey and white robe, her wings tucked beneath it and not useable for the moment. She looked up at her sister, pouted, and pointed. “Marianne! What happened to your wings?!”

“Dawn, what are you doing here?!” Marianne repeated, deflecting the question. “Dad is going to be so worried if he finds you are missing!”

“I missed you!” Dawn bounced over to her sister, giving her a hug, her own wings flaring out behind her. Marianne sighed, returning the hug, then Dawn twisted around, out of her arms, and grabbed onto one of her wings, holding it up to examine it. “So how did you do this?!”

“You. Are not supposed to know,” growled Marianne, turning to jerk her wing out her sister’s hand. “Dad knows and told me not to show them to anyone or tell anyone how it happened,” Marianne grumbled something under her breath, and Bog walked up behind her to put a hand on her shoulder.

“Ooh, it’s cold in here.” Dawn rubbed her hands down her arms and shivered. “Can we go up into your house?”

Marianne sighed heavily, slumping forward and casting an annoyed glare at her sister. “You know you can’t stay, Dawn, you need to go home as soon as possible.”

“I need to get these unloaded quickly then,” sighed Sunny, motioning to the chests on the rabbit. “Oh, crud, Dawn won’t have a whole bunch of blankets and clothes to ride in on the way home!”

“Sunny!” Marianne whipped her head around to glare at him. “Did you know she was in there?!”

“Maybe?” Sunny cringed, twiddling his fingers.

-=-=-=-=-=-

“Do you understand how dangerous that was?” Marianne fussed at her sister as they flew up the stairwell.

“Well, you told me you were carried by Bog, so I thought I’d be fine riding in a trunk.” Dawn laughed, utterly unconcerned with any danger.

“I’m going to have you drink something warm, then we’re bundling you up and sending you back home.” They reached the top of the stairs and landed. Marianne grumbled, opening the door angrily. “Dad is going to be so mad if anything happens to you!”

“Nothing is going to happen to me!” Dawn danced by her sister and took a deep breath, flaring out her wings as the warm air hit her. “Now, spill how you got those weird-looking wings! And why aren’t you affected by the cold?”

Marianne stared at her sister for a moment, then walked past her, ignoring the question. “I think I can make tea. Griselda showed me how a few times.” She motioned to her sister to join her.

“Marianne,” whined Dawn following her to the kitchen. “Sisters shouldn’t keep secrets from one another.”

Marianne grumbled, giving her sister a cross look before retrieving the tea kettle from its nook and ladling water into it. “It doesn’t matter. Dad will be furious, and while I think everyone should know, for now, I’m going to respect his stance. For now. Dad and I are going to have a long conversation in the spring when they drop off, and I return to being a normal, everyday fairy woman like everyone else.”

“You normal, and every day?” Dawn began laughing, following her sister closely as she set the kettle over the fire in the fireplace. “That’s a laugh! Come on! Tell me! Tell me! Tell me!”

“No.” Marianne whirled around her sister and pushed her toward the living area as she giggled and playfully fought back. “Why don’t you ever take anything seriously?”

“Oh, I have you for that!” Dawn giggled, dancing through the door and into the living room, spreading her wings to hop up on top of one of the low couches.

“Get off the furniture and sit like a normal person,” groaned Marianne as Dawn perched on the back of the couch with her elbows resting on her knees, arms folded over her lap.

Dawn giggled, sliding down on the couch and straightening her cloak and dress over her legs. “I’m perfectly fine, Marianne. Why are you so cranky? I thought you’d be happy to see me.” She put on her best pouty, sweet look she could.

“That doesn’t work on me.” Marianne rolled her eyes and sat next to her sister, reaching over to hug her. “I love you, but you can’t risk your life to come to see me. Maybe next year, you can stay with us here, but this year…” She hesitated and sighed. “You’re going to worry Dad, and at his age, we shouldn’t. It’s the only reason I’m not going to tell you what happened to my wings right now.”

Dawn leaned over with a smile. “Tell me! Tell me! Tell me! I swear I won’t tell anyone else!”

“You’re not going to trick me, you blabbermouth!” Marianne laughed, giving her sister a playful shove.

“Good to see ye laughing.” Bog entered with an arm full of Marianne’s clothes from the castle and a leather bag. “We got everything out of the chests, and I’ll bring it up in a bit. Sunny insisted ye get this bag immediately, said it’s from yer father.”

“Where’s Sunny?” Dawn inquired curiously.

“Coming,” stated Bog, glancing over his shoulder. “I made those stairs for my mom, so they’re short, and there’s a lot of them. It’ll take him a few minutes.” He crossed the room to hand the bag to Marianne, then left to put Marianne’s clothes in their room.

Marianne stared at the bag, then unbuckled the two straps holding it closed and dumped the contents out on her lap. Two old, very worn journals with yellowing pages and a letter tumbled out. “Huh.” Marianne picked up the letter and flipped it open, reading over it, with her sister picking up one of the journals.

Dear Marianne,

I hope you are doing well and enjoying your first winter as a married couple. Since this wasn’t planned, I had Dawn go through your clothes and pick out enough to fill a trunk, then thought I would send a few new warm cloaks and dresses, things I know you will like. 

Following our conversation, I remembered that I have these two important journals that you need to read. One is King Laine’s journal from that winter. The other is Prince Torbil’s journal, which he had on him when he died. Please read them and understand.

Send my best to Bog and Griselda.

Love, Dad

Marianne sighed at the letter, reading it a second time, then noticing there was only one journal on her lap. She looked at her strangely quiet sister and realized she had one of the journals open and was clearly fascinated by what she was reading.

“Dawn, Dad sent those to me.” Marianne held out her hand to take the book. “For my eyes only?”

“Oh, but this prince, he writes the sweetest things about a girl he’s in love with!” Dawn clutched the book to her chest, smiling at her sister. “It’s just a journal with a lot of poetry in it.”

“Dawn, give it to me.” Marianne persisted, hearing panting coming from the stairwell, along with her husband’s footfalls returning to the living area.

“It’s just a book.” Dawn flipped through a few pages, skimming over it as Marianne grabbed for the book.

“You aren’t supposed to read it!” Marianne lunged for the book as her sister tried to get away from her. Both went down onto the floor as Bog and Sunny entered the room. “Dawn!” The book ended up in Marianne’s hands, but pages of it flew loose with the rough treatment.

“Uh, what’s going on in here?” Sunny grabbed for the pages while Bog sighed and ran a hand over his face.

Marianne got up, grabbing for the pages before her sister could. She gathered up all the pages, including the ones Sunny was holding and crammed them back inside the book. “Dawn, forget about these books.” She retrieved the other journal and letter, then rushed out of the room to put them in a safe place, leaving Sunny, Bog, and Dawn staring after her curiously.

Then the kettle began whistling, and Bog grumbled. “I’ll take care of that. Ye should have something hot to drink before ye go.”

-=-=-=-=-=- 

Roland observed the rabbit with its load and the familiar-looking rider arriving at the border castle. He figured out who it was quickly and went to work on a plan, recalling this elf was the one he tricked into sneaking into Bog’s original castle and also a friend of the princesses.

At first, he considered taking the elf, but then how would Bog and Marianne know he was missing? The rabbit would most likely return home, and nobody would be able to get back to Bog and Marianne about the missing elf. He could take Sunny and injure the rabbit, then it would return to where it came from or leave a blood trail?

No, that wouldn’t work because then they would know something dangerous was outside, and they would stick together. Roland grumbled, running a clawed hand through his hair in frustration. He couldn’t think of anything, then smiled. There was one thing he could do, and that was grab the elf and get information from him about what was inside the goblin castle.

Roland licked his lips, beginning to salivate at the thought of also taking out that plump, well-fed rabbit. Game was scarce, and he had developed an appetite for hunting anything that moved. He hadn’t found a rabbit yet, the wild ones were deep in the dark forest, and he didn’t venture too far into it.

Now, he had to be patient and wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to life (and writing Raine) I fell behind and don't have the next chapter done! Working on it today!  
> However, may just update Raine on Monday and Wednesday next week since I have so much of it and so little of this. Need a little padding.
> 
> And now, I also need to figure out what is going to happen to Dawn, because my options are on a scale of Marianne to Roland in just how much exposure she's going to get. >:D
> 
> I can't wait to get into why Marianne will be naming one of her future sons Torbil and not Laine. :D


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roland makes his move and Marianne learns uncomfortable truths about her ancestors.

Sunny waved goodbye to Marianne and Bog as he took his seat on the rabbit and turned it to head back out into the snow. Dawn was packed into one o the crates with blankets wrapped around her. She was sad to leave but went after Marianne threatened to tie her up and stuff her in the box.

Bog and Marianne waved back as the door closed behind them, several goblins operating the wheel. “You did a good job of designing that door, Bog.” Marianne glanced at the wheel and the door as it closed seamlessly with the ground around it.

“Raising it vertically prevents snow from weighing it down.” Bog walked over the gears, observing the goblins as the door was locked into place with pins and beams on the sides.

“You need to stop telling me you’re not creative.” Marianne elbowed her husband in the side as she joined him. “I don’t understand how you make all these gears and pulleys work like you do, and the steam pipes you’re planning to put in.”

“It’s just organizing pieces in their proper order,” mumbled Bog, a flush spreading over his face at the compliments. “I like things in order, ye know.”

Marianne smiled, turning to face Bog, her hands resting on his hips as she looked up into his face. Of all his expressions, his shy smiles were the sweetest and touched her the most. He gazed at her with that gentle light in his blue eyes, full of adoration and love that made her heart soar. There might be more fun expressions, but this one was the one that bound their hearts.

“Bog, I love you,” Marianne stated, sliding her arms around to his back, running her fingers along the rigid line she had come to know well. Bog’s entire body shook, and his eyes rolled back momentarily as he leaned forward to slide his hands over her shoulders in a firm embrace. Marianne dropped both hands down quickly over his butt, squeezing playfully. She attempted to squirm out of his arms, but his grasp was like iron, holding her close.

“Oh, ye think yer getting away after that?” Bog cackled as Marianne fluttered her wings, trying to get enough lift to get free. He buried his face into the top of her head as she began giggling, one of his hands loosening enough to run up her side, just below her arm.

Several goblins were standing by, watching uncertainly, and Bog smirked, then suddenly let Marianne go. She laughed, her wings snapping her out of Bog’s grasp, then she turned and did exactly what he thought she would, flew for the stairwell where they could have more privacy.

-=-=-=-=-=-

Sunny had the rabbit hopping quickly through the deep snow. Since they broke the trail only a few hours earlier, the return trip would be faster. The elf wanted to get Dawn back home as soon as possible, worried more about the return trip than the earlier one. He didn’t notice they were being followed, not that it would have helped.

The rabbit caught the scent of danger before Sunny noticed they weren’t alone. The rabbit’s ears twitching back and eyes widening as he leaped straight into the air. Sunny held on for dear life as the rabbit bolted off into the snow, making frantic leaps.

“What is going on!” Sunny yelled at the rabbit, trying to get him to listen to him as he pulled on the reins. “Get back on the trail!”

Roland struck the rabbit so fast, Sunny didn’t even see it happen. The animal let out a second long shriek, then went down on its side, sending the elf into the snow. Sunny laid in the snow for a moment, terrified to move, then he heard Dawn calling out. That made him move.

He wasn’t sure what hit the rabbit and kept quiet, digging through the snow in the direction the rabbit fell. Sunny gasped in horror at the sound of one of the chests being opened, followed by Dawn talking, then she screamed, sending him into a panic to get to her.

The sight that met Sunny’s eyes was that of some creature carrying a struggling Dawn into the air. Whatever it was, didn’t look like anything he had ever seen before.

“Sunny!” Dawn shrieked, reaching out for him, struggling to free herself. “Get to Bog and Marianne!”

“I'll get help!” Sunny called out frantically, staring after her as she vanished from view. The elf clenched and unclenched his hands, looking at the dead rabbit in a growing pool of blood beneath it. He had to get back into the trail, then run as fast as he could back to Bog’s tree.

Without the rabbit, it would take hours, and by then, the sun would be setting. Sunny whined and began plowing through the snow. There was no time to waste. If he didn’t hurry, Dawn might freeze to death.

-=-=-=-=-=-

“Let me go!” Dawn struggled, punching and kicking as Roland tried to carry her back to his home. She flailed her wings, trying to get something free enough to make Roland drop her. Her cloak had been stripped off when he grabbed her out of the crate and left behind.

“Don’t be ridiculous, princess!” Roland snarled, digging his claws into her to let her know just how much business he meant.

Dawn recognized his voice and shivered. “R’roland?”

“Yes?” He flew faster, now that she stopped throwing him off balance.

“You better take me back, or Bog and Marianne are going to kill you!” Dawn erupted into even more frantic squirming, getting a wing free. The pair of them careened in the air, then Roland let her go, giving her a hard push so that the much smaller fairy crash-landed into a snowbank below.

“Suit yourself!” Roland hovered over her, folding his arms. “You won’t last long in there.”

“Roland!” Dawn flapped her wings, trying to get out of the cold, biting snow. She shivered uncontrollably, crying out. “Help me!”

“Oh, it’s okay.” The changed fairy smiled down at her through fanged teeth. “Just give in to the cold, and you’ll sleep, just like I did. Then when you wake up, you’ll be just me like.”

“No, I don’t want to be like you!” Dawn stared at him wide-eyed, the changes in him fully evident and frightening. “Please, Roland! Help me!” Her wings flailed in the snow, but she couldn’t get out of it enough to free herself. She shivered and shook, panicking as the gravity of her situation set in. “Please! Roland!”

Roland remained hovering nearby, watching curiously as Dawn succumbed to the cold, assuming that what happened to Marianne and himself would also happen to her. He wasn’t sure what it was, but in a few more minutes, he could carry Dawn to another place and hide her away.

When the princess went quiet, slipping into unconsciousness, Roland dropped down near her and began using snow to wipe the blood from his hands and face. He checked on Dawn to find her still breathing, then scooped her out of the snow and took off for the northern border. The best place to hide her would be the old house, where he had changed. There were few predators, and it was close enough to his home he could monitor her and watch for Bog and Marianne.

If Roland was lucky, the pair of them would venture into the house, which he knew well, and he would be able to pick off Bog. Dawn was just bait at this point, something to draw them in. He knew Sunny saw which way he flew, and he would wait. If they couldn’t find her, then he had another plan for Dawn, let her change, then convince her to join him.

It was a solid plan.

-=-=-=-=-=-

Marianne sat in silence, leaning against Bog on a comfortable couch with a blanket draped over her legs, reading Torbil’s journal. She put the pages back inside it as well as she could, but it was fragile. The journal was full of interesting notes about day to day life in his time. The book was filled with poetry to an unnamed fairy woman, a young woman who was described as an adventure, with fire-lit brown eyes and brown hair and wings, wings exactly the same rare shade of bluish-purple Marianne’s were.

The pages were mystifying, then there was mention of a wedding to this woman. Torbil was married shortly before his disappearance? It was so long ago, Marianne didn’t remember ever hearing this. The book ended with a cryptic note after a few blank pages, a single line reading. I don’t trust my brother. Something is wrong with him.

Laine’s journal was very different, mostly containing dry entries about day to day events. Then, there were entries about a woman named Anna, a lovely young woman that Laine set his eyes on, and Marianne recalled was the woman he married who would be queen. He described her as a wild woman who needed to be tamed, a fire smoldering beneath charred wood, a challenge.

The way Laine wrote about Anna made Marianne’s stomach churn because it was like reading something that Roland would write. Queen Anna was apparently a lot like herself, and it looked like that streak of wildness had been passed down through the generations strongly.

It was when Marianne reached the entry in the late fall that things began to click together with Torbil’s entries. Laine wrote, Something has to be done about Torbil. He doesn’t know his place and has taken what is mine.

Then came Laine’s direct account about Torbil being sadly lost to a winter storm and how distraught Anna was at the loss, and the entire kingdom mourned. It appeared that for some reason, a few days after Torbil was lost, Laine married Anna in a rushed ceremony, then there were notes about looking forward to the first of many children.

Torbil’s wife was never named in his own journal, and the wedding was never mentioned. Marianne would have gone into the library and spoke to the librarians if she were at home. Laine was King and would have had his choice of whomever he wanted to marry, and they would not turn him down. If Anna had been involved with Torbil and Laine saw her and wanted her, and Marianne was sure Anna was the same woman Torbil wrote about, then he could have taken her unless she was already married to Torbil.

Marianne groaned, flipping pages in the journals, comparing the dates. They lined up, and she got a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. King Laine and Prince Torbil loved the same woman. It was likely Torbil married her in secret to avoid Laine finding out and stopping them. Once the marriage occurred, it was a binding contract that couldn’t even be broken by a king… unless the husband was to go missing.

“What’s wrong, love?” Bog studied Marianne’s constantly shifting expressions of disgust.

“I think King Laine tried to kill Prince Torbil, and that’s how he turned into a monster.” Marianne sighed, reading over the account of the monster, which was entirely out of sync with the rest of the book. It was written in overly dramatic prose like Laine was telling a story. “He came back to the castle to get his wife.”

Bog stared at Marianne, a little confused. “Why?”

“Laine and Torbil were in love with the same woman, I think. Torbil married her, and the only way for Laine to take her was for Torbil to die.” Marianne explained quickly.

“Why would someone do something like that? That’s awful.” Bog’s expression was perplexed like he couldn’t fathom anyone doing such a vile thing.

“Goblins don’t fight over females?” Marianne closed the book, tired of the depressing reading. She set it on the low table in front of the couch with the other journal.

“Of course they do, but they don’t actually hurt each other,” snorted Bog, shaking his head. “And fighting over a married female is forbidden. We don’t do things like that. They just go find another female.”

Marianne laid down on her side with her head on Bog’s thigh, staring into the crackling fireplace. Bog set the ledger book he was studying aside and turned his attention to Marianne, dropping his hand over her side and gently stroking her.

“Are ye okay?” Bog inquired after a long moment of silence.

“Yes, Bog, I’m okay. It’s just that King Laine was my ancestor, and he was awful.” Marianne replied, closing her eyes and enjoying the comforting touch. “He wasn’t who I thought he was, and everyone says he was a great king, one of our most revered leaders.”

“Whatever he did, doesn’t change who ye are,” muttered Bog, running his other hand over Marianne’s head, ruffling her wild hair. “Why’d yer dad send ye those books?”

“I don’t know,” Marianne grumbled. “Maybe he just wanted me to know the truth, but it’s a truth that he’s putting on me that I have to support with a lie, and I don’t like it at all.”

“Your father might not have seen the same in the accounts?”

“My father would have caught it faster than me,” groaned Marianne. “He’s making sure I understand the importance of keeping this secret and everything that goes with it. Dad knows me well enough that he shouldn’t have done this to me!”

“In the spring, ye can discuss it with him,” suggested Bog.

Thudding sounds came from the stairs, several pairs of feet running up them, followed by a very hard impact with the door.

“I’ll get it,” growled Bog, shifting out from under Marianne as she sat up. “It better be important. Every time I open that door, it sucks out the heat.”

Marianne chuckled, pulling the blanket around her shoulders, waiting for the brief blast of cold air that always came from opening the door. Bog promised to fix that issue by next winter, with a second door on the landing and at the base of the stairway. She reached for the mug of warm tea sitting on the low table in front of her and was about to sip it when she heard a goblin shouting that the elf was back and was in bad shape down in the loading hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> None of this is going to end well. :D
> 
> I really do enjoy comments. Oh and I am now more active on tumblr! 
> 
> https://shivae.tumblr.com/
> 
> I figured out what was going on and am up to chapter 19!


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bog and Marianne investigate the site of Dawn's abduction and Sunny deals with his inability to help.

Sunny didn’t complain about Bog carrying him up the stairs into Bog and Marianne’s warm home. He was too busy shaking, his teeth chattering and face red. The elf was well bundled, and getting out of his wet coat and cold second layer of clothing helped Griselda brought him a cup of hot tea while Marianne made sure he was sitting close enough to the fire with blankets wrapped over him.

Tears began streaming down his face as Sunny attempted to talk. “I couldn’t… couldn’t stop him!”

“Sunny, where is Dawn?” Marianne fidgeted in front of him, pulling on her cloak. It was still light outside, but she and Bog were dressing to go out and look for her sister. It was a natural assumption that something awful had happened by Sunny’s presence without the rabbit. “How far away?”

“Took Dawn! Couldn’t help!” Sunny chattered, then took a deep breath and drink of the tea, grimacing because it was a little hotter than necessary. “Something took Dawn! Killed the rabbit!”

“What took her?” Bog scowled, fastening his heavy fur cloak over his body.

“Big fairy! Like you! Kinda!” Sunny tried to get the words out. “Took her north! Wings like Marianne’s, but yellow, black, and red!” He paused in horror. “Like… Roland’s wings!” He gaped, and both Bog and Marianne did the same.

“No. No. NO!” Marianne shook, panic taking over for a moment. “It can’t be!”

“It can,” growled Bog, his pauldrons raising in response to his wife’s frightened tone, every instinct flaring inside at what this meant. “If he was overcome with the cold like ye were and laid out there, then he would go through the same change.”

“No, he would go through the dangerous one! The same one Torbil did! He would turn into a monster!” Marianne flew past Bog. “We have to get out there now and figure out where he went! We have to find Dawn!”

“We will, but we need to find the rabbit first so I can see what we’re dealing with,” stated Bog. “I have a suspicion he will return to that human farmhouse where the pixies are or near it, and we do not have time to fly out there before nightfall.”

“We can fly fast!” Marianne growled, unsealing the door to the sunning porch. “We can do it!”

“No, we can not.” Bog grabbed Marianne by the arm and pulled her back, wrapping one arm around her chest to hold her firmly so she would listen and not get out the door before he could talk. “We need to know what we are dealing with. If we fly out to where he took ye, it will be very dark and very cold, too cold for us. We have no idea what Roland might be planning. He could be waiting for us. Unfortunately, what has happened to ye is going to happen to Dawn, but maybe we can find her before it takes her too far. We will go in the morning.”

Marianne sighed but didn’t relax, her wings twitching with anger and fear for her sister. “Bog, we could try.”

“No, promise me ye won’t go flying off to the north, Marianne. We will go in the morning as soon as it’s warm enough. We are no good to Dawn if we are too cold to bring her home ourselves.” Bog persisted, loosening his grip on his wife. “Think clearly, love. We will have to search a huge ruin, full of pixies, and the area around it. We need light.”

“Bog.” Marianne made a face, not struggling.

“Marianne, I know ye.” He leaned over her, letting her arm go to hug her beneath him, murmuring close to her ear. “Dawn will be okay. Roland wants one thing, and we know what it is. Hurting Dawn would not get him anywhere near his goal, but we need to stick together right now and see what he did to the rabbit.”

“I promise I won’t fly to the north,” Marianne stated through clenched teeth. “Let’s go look at the rabbit.”

-=-=-=-=- 

Sunny stared at the two from his chair by the fire, overhearing their conversation and unable to do anything to help. He felt so weak and helpless, unable to do anything to stop Roland. He could still hear Dawn’s voice pleading for him to help her and to get help as the door opened and a gust of cold air blew through the house.

“It’ll be okay,” Griselda stated, refilling Sunny’s mug. “They’ll figure out what to do.”

“I couldn’t help her,” whimpered Sunny, furrowing his brows in frustration. “I am so useless.”

“Don’t think like that,” clucked Griselda, patting the elf on the shoulder. “We all have our strengths and weaknesses and things we can do that others can’t. You’re a particularly plucky elf.”

“And useless!” Sunny groaned louder, hunched over his mug of tea. “I don’t understand how Dawn can love me when I can’t help her.”

“Love isn’t about what you do for each other, Sunny.” Griselda smiled at the elf. “It’s about being there when you can’t do anything, supporting one another in the best and the worst situations. Don’t worry so much about what you can’t do. Leave it to those who can, or you’ll drive yourself crazy. Just love the girl.”

Sunny sighed, mulling over the elder goblin’s words. He wasn’t sure he entirely understood her, but talking made him feel a little better. “I do. I just don’t know how she can love me.”

-=-=-=-=- 

The way Bog began breathing while examining the dead rabbit was worrying. Marianne was prepared for the sight after the rabbit hunting in the fall, but when those rabbits bled out, it wasn’t as evident. The blood was still bright red in the snow, crystallized, and pooled all around the giant white rabbit. Signs of the rabbit’s death throes were evident in the way the snow was piled up around the feet. It had suffered.

“I can’t do damage like this,” growled Bog. “He has actual claws. These lacerations are clean.” Bog glanced at Marianne, standing a little behind him. She was keeping her eyes on her husband and not on the massive amount of blood around them. “And he fed on it too, ate the heart and liver.”

“Raw?” Marianne shivered.

Bog made a face at her. “I would eat them raw too, Marianne.”

“Sorry.” Marianne grimaced in response, recalling he mentioned that during the hunt.

“Turn away, I’m going to skin it. No need for the rabbit to go to waste. I’ll send goblins out tomorrow morning to butcher it.” Bog motioned to Marianne, and she immediately turned away, not wanting to see the process again.

The sun began to dip low, and the temperature was starting to drop, but they would be home well before the cold became more than they could handle. Marianne hovered up into the air to get away from the sounds of the rabbit being skinned and spotted a bit of cloth nearby.

Deciding to investigate, Marianne flew to the cloth and pulled up Dawn’s silvery grey rabbit fur cloak. With a small sob, Marianne lifted the fur to her face and hugged it. Her sister was somewhere out there, without any protection at all, slipping into sleep alone, and she had to find her before she turned into a monster.

-=-=-=-=- 

Dawn never gave any thought to dying. Why should she? She was very young and tended to avoid dangerous situations, at least, others kept her out of them. When she was captured by the goblins, she was a little afraid, but then one look into Bog’s eyes, and she knew he wouldn’t actually harm her or let anyone touch her.

This was entirely different. The snow burned; it was so cold against her wings and skin. She panicked, and Roland, this terrifying version of Roland with fangs, claws, and a deformed, monstrous body hovered and watched her as she cried for help. Dawn succumbed to the cold, shivering and unable to fight it, passing in and out of consciousness as Roland picked her up and carried her far away.

The princess couldn’t fight, her entire body numb and shaking, then entirely still as she slipped into sleep. She woke a few times, brief glimpses of snow and more snow, then darkness. Her thoughts briefly went to Sunny, her father, Marianne, and Bog, the people she was closest to and who she knew, would come after her. Bog and Marianne. They would be the ones who would find her, and she knew nothing would get in their way, not even this mutated monster Roland had become.

Bog and Marianne. Her fierce sister and the fierce King of the Dark Forest. Dawn smiled, drifting to sleep, her thoughts on those she loved. They loved her and wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her.

Dawn was cold, but it didn’t bother her as she passed into the heavy sleep of the winter metamorphosis, hidden in the old farmhouse, safe from anything that might harm her. Roland made sure she was concealed and in a place that would be hard to find.

-=-=-=-=-

Sunny fretted, unable to do anything else until Marianne returned. Bog was busy giving orders to the goblins down below and delayed, but Marianne told him their plan. “We’ll go in the morning, as soon as it’s warm enough,” she stated to the concerned elf.

“There’s no way for you to take me with you, is there? I could help search,” offered Sunny.

“Sorry, Sunny, but because of the snow, one of us would have to carry you,” sighed Marianne. “And we may need to fly fast. I can’t fly as fast if I’m carrying someone, and Dawn is not going to be awake.”

“Marianne, what’s going to happen to Dawn?” Sunny couldn’t shake the feeling that Marianne knew more than she was letting on.

“Sunny, you can’t tell anyone. I was grabbed by Roland, and Bog rescued me, but he was too late.” Marianne walked through the kitchen to the living area. “When a fairy gets really cold, we go into a week-long sleep and change. Our bodies adjust to the cold.”

“Oh.” Sunny stared at Marianne, wide-eyed. “Is that going to happen to Dawn?”

“Well.” Marianne grimaced, taking a seat near the fire. Sunny sat across from her.. “I hope so because Bog brought me here and kept me warm. I was only in the cold for a few hours. Roland was out there the entire time as far as we know, and that’s why he changed even more drastically. I don’t know how long it takes, and I’m worried the same thing will happen to Dawn. Hopefully, we can get to her fast enough.”

“Dawn might turn into a monster?” whimpered Sunny, looking at Marianne sadly. An even more horrifying expression overcame the elf. “And it’s all my fault.”

“No, it’s not. I know how persuasive Dawn can be.” Marianne sighed. “We have the spare room mostly set up if you want to try to get some sleep.”

“I’m not going to sleep.” Sunny ran a hand through his hair. “The king is going to be so furious. I don’t think there’s any coming back from this one. He’s going to kick me out of the kingdom!”

“No, he won’t,” Marianne grumbled. “This is Roland’s fault, not yours, Sunny. We’ll get her back. You can count on it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be updating stuff every day except Sunday. :D Woohoo...   
> Bog knows his wife well!  
> Thank you for reading!


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The search for Dawn commences, with hope they will find her before she turns into a monster like Roland.

Bog grumbled, waking up with a slightly fuzzy head. The evening before, Griselda gave them a sleeping tea to make sure they didn’t have a restless night, and sleep came fast. He couldn’t remember anything after curling up around Marianne, which was the point. His wife was still asleep with her back to him, and it was dark outside, judging by the thin strip of sky he could see through the room’s one curtained window.

Taking a deep breath, Bog nuzzled Marianne’s head, burying his face into her thick hair. It was always calming to catch her unique scent and everything that went with it. He gently held her against him, then found she wasn’t there.

Nothing was there.

He was alone in the dark and confused.

“Marianne?” Bog sat up, his wings twitching nervously, the foreboding sense that something was wrong filling his entire body. “Marianne?” 

Then he realized why the room was so dark. The fire was out, and it was cold enough to make him shiver. Bog’s breath fogged the air in front of him as he rose and began searching for Marianne, through room after dark room. When had they made so many rooms? Why was it so dark and cold in every one of them? Why were all the fires out? Where was his mother?

The halls and rooms began to tilt uncontrollably, becoming smaller and smaller, too small for Bog’s frame. A heavy weight settled on him, and he couldn’t breathe. Everything was pressing in on him, crushing him. The castle. His own castle was crushing him. He never got out. None of his life after that event was real, it was all a dream.

“Bog!” His eyes flew open at the sound of his name, Marianne’s hands on both sides of his head, shaking him. “Wake up!” For a moment, Bog thought he was still dreaming, his breath caught in his chest and terror, making his heart race like it wanted to escape his chest. “Are you okay?”

It took Bog a few moments to realize he was where he should be, in a warm room, with a fire in the fireplace, in his bed, with his arms around his loving wife. Her amber lit eyes shined with concern as she ran her fingers behind his ears, talking to him. “Wow, you’re shaking. What were you dreaming about?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Bog pulled Marianne closer, kissing her on the nose, then the forehead, needing to feel her warmth in his arms.

“You’re shaking,” murmured Marianne, nuzzling his neck “You can tell me anything, you know, I love you, Bog.”

“I know,” he whispered back, closing his eyes. “I need a few minutes, then we should get up. We have a long day ahead of us.” Bog’s heart was still beating wildly as he attempted to relax. The dream wasn’t real. None of it was real. Still, he couldn’t rid himself of that sense of loss and heartache. “I love you, Marianne.”

-=-=-=-=-=- 

Marianne had never seen Bog wear his sword belt before, even though she knew from experience, he was just as good with a sword as he was a staff. She also didn’t realize just how many bladed weapons Bog had as he laid them out on the kitchen table, mumbling as he adjusted the sword belt beneath his winter coat. He was talking to himself, going over what he needed.

“Take everything ye can carry,” stated Bog, sweeping his hand out over the table. “And one amber rod for light. We’re not taking any chances.”

“Eat something before you go.” Griselda sat a bowl full of muffins in the center of the table. “I’m packing lunches for you too.”

“Mom, this isn’t some picnic,” growled Bog, reaching for one of the steaming hot muffins. 

“I know, but it’s cold out there, and you will need your strength.” Griselda hurried around the kitchen, packing a bag with muffins wrapped in cloth and strips of rabbit jerky.

Marianne began picking up a set of short throwing blades, with a muffin in her other hand. She didn’t look like she was enjoying it, more like she was forcing herself to eat. “So the plan is, we’re going to the farmhouse first?”

“Yes, and we stick close together.” Bog nodded, then added in a more serious tone. “He’s going to try to kill me or take you, but he’s not going to do it if we’re too close together.”

“I’ll be ready for him,” growled Marianne, tucking a few more knives inside the many pockets beneath her winter robe.

Sunny sat quietly, watching everyone prepare for something he felt he should be joining. There was no way he could participate, and it hurt.

“Are ye coming?” Bog turned to look at Sunny curiously.

“What do you mean, am I coming? I don’t have wings. I can’t fly!” Sunny groused.

“We’re taking Albus, my owl,” stated Bog. 

“Oh,” both Marianne and Sunny replied.

“I forgot about the owl,” grumbled Marianne.

“Yeah, already have him saddled and ready for us. Albus will also alert us if he spots Roland while we’re inside the house and get us out quickly.” Bog motioned to the table, where an assortment of weapons was still on the table. “I have a rope and grappling hooks on the owl.”

“Give me a few minutes to prepare!” Sunny leaped to his feet, running to a chair next to the table to see what was laid out. He had an opportunity to help, and he was taking it.

-=-=-=-=-=- 

The sun was just above the trees when Bog, Marianne, and Sunny arrived at the farmhouse on the back of Bog’s owl. It was warm enough as they circled the structure, looking for signs of disturbance or Roland himself. Bog and Marianne perched in a nearby tree, surveying the area together, with Sunny sitting on one of Albus’ talons. The chill in the air was enough that their breath came out in clouds, but the temperature was rising quickly.

“We’ll go in through the same way I went in to find ye. Sunny, choose a different way. Ye are going to be Roland’s focus, but keep yer eyes open. There are pixies in there, although they may be down in the ground hibernating.” Bog began giving instructions. “There are plenty of places to get into that me and Marianne won’t fit in that ye can, elf.”

“Okay,” Sunny stated with determination, dropping a hand to the coil of rope at his side. He was good with rope and determined to find Dawn before anyone else did.

“Let’s go.” Bog took a breath and motioned to the house. He took off with Marianne close behind. Albus followed, with Sunny gripping a loop of rope around the owl’s leg. The two fairies vanished into the house, and Sunny selected a window around the side, giving the owl the quick set of directions Bog briefed him over, taking him down and landing on the far side of the old farmhouse, near what had once been a massive window.

The owl hooted as Sunny disembarked, then lifted off, leaving the elf standing on a wood beam before a gaping entrance that led into darkness. Taking a breath, Sunny nervously walked forward. He had several daggers strapped to him but decided he would try to remain out of sight over risking any confrontations with Roland. 

“I can do this.” Sunny stated, shakily walking down the beam and into the darkness. 

Sunny found himself in a large open area of the house in complete silence. Nothing moved, which suited him just fine. He crept down the beam and dropped onto an old wooden floor. He removed the amber torch from his belt and slipped the strap over his wrist, tightened it, then slid back the cover.

A beam of focused light came from the end of the tube, cutting through the darkness. Sunny turned right, beginning his search into every nook and cranny he could see. If Dawn was inside, he assumed she would be further inside, perhaps down. There were gaping holes in the floor, showing a level beneath the one he was on. Holes above showed there was another floor, high overhead.

Bog and Marianne were up there, Sunny assumed, so he needed to find a way down, then they would meet in the middle. It sounded logical, and that was his plan. So far, so good.

-=-=-=-=-=- 

Roland observed from a dark area up high in the house. He had flown in much earlier, assuming that Bog and Marianne would enter through the most obvious entrance. It was the biggest entrance that led into the main part of the collapsed house. There was a shelf that Roland could hide behind that wasn’t apparent from below.

Bog and Marianne flew inside, keeping within close reach of each other as they circled the area. They did a sweep of the area that had a little light, then Bog hovered in the air, his head up. Roland immediately realized the flaw in his plan. He was hidden, but he was most likely giving off a strong scent. He didn’t have a proper exit strategy. Roland scowled at his stupidity and crept into his hiding spot, hoping Bog couldn’t figure out where he was and would just assume it was an older scent. 

Bog’s lip curled in disgust, getting the strong smell of a predator and the scent of blood. It was the blood he picked up first. “Roland.” Bog snarled, immediately getting Marianne’s attention?

“Where?” Marianne drew her sword, ready to engage if necessary.

“Above us.” Bog’s pauldrons raised as he scanned the area above them, breathing in deeply through his nose, concentrating on the exact location.

Roland grit his teeth together, realizing he could remain hidden and certainly be found, or he could leave now, lose any advantage, but be able to escape to work out another way to get to them. He was trapped if he remained, backed into a small crevice where Bog and Marianne would easily be able to get to him, and he wouldn’t be able to get out.

Sighing that his plan was already ruined, Roland made his decision, and after a quick glance to see where Bog and Marianne were, fled into one of the many openings in the roof of the falling down house.

“Roland!” Marianne screamed after him. “Where’s Dawn!” She darted after him, with Bog close behind, grabbing for her. He wasn’t quick enough and, with a growl, chased after her.

Marianne shot out of the roof of the house, closing the distance between her and Roland within seconds. Roland glanced back and purposely slowed with a grin, seeing that Bog was just far enough behind her that if he was fast, he could make his move. This wasn’t the plan, but he was prepared.

Roland made a wide arc around a large tree and found Bog did precisely what he expected, took the short cut around the other side. With a grin, Roland tilted and flew at a startled Bog with his sword in one hand and claws ready in the other. Bog attempted to dodge the sword, leaving his back exposed for a brief moment.

One swipe and this would be over. Roland went for Bog’s exposed wings and would have shredded one, if not for the owl he never saw or heard coming. Albus swooped in to defend his master, sending both fairies tumbling through the air. Roland screamed as one of the owl’s talons caught his shoulder and chest, ripping through the simple leather armor he had been wearing.

Bog righted himself, with Marianne flying at him to make sure he was okay as the owl pursued Roland. The injured fairy fled as quickly as he could into a thick bramble nearby.

“I’m fine,” growled Bog, scanning the area and noting the trail of blood droplets in the snow. “I can’t believe that coward flew at me!”

“Yeah, I saw,” grumbled Marianne. “Not like him at all. He really did change.”

“He’s badly injured.” Bog motioned to the blood in the snow. “We need to find Dawn first and worry about him later.”

Marianne worried her lower lip, really wanting to go after Roland now, but it would be worse if they wasted too much time, and Dawn ended up like Roland. It would be awful. She didn’t want to imagine her poor sweet, innocent sister being turned into a monster.

“Okay, we have to find her fast!” Marianne turned and flew back toward the house. Bog whistled at the owl, still circling overhead. Albus flew close and landed as Bog gave him a few more orders, to watch, as well as thanking him.

-=-=-=-=-=-

Roland swore at Bog, Marianne, and the owl as he ended up on the ground, creeping through the snow beneath nearby bushes. The moment it was clear, he fled further away, close to the ground. The gash on his shoulder and chest wasn’t too deep, and the bleeding slowed when he didn’t move his arm.

Groaning at the pain, Roland took the long way back to his hidden home, already making plans to relocate to another home as soon as night fell. If Bog and Marianne didn’t find Dawn, he would move her. They would never find her, and when she woke up, she would have a new nature, just like his own. 

He could mold her for his own uses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to make sure Sunny got to help! And he did, even if he didn't find Dawn.
> 
> Thank you for reading, as usual, I love comments!


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The search for Dawn continues and Bog informs King Dagda of his missing daughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter was deleted due to writing the next chapter and King Dagda doing something unexpected that demanded a rearrangement of scenes, because it solves an important problem that is going to come up. I did not expect it. I'll be working on finishing writing Winter Wings now that I finished Fairy Garden, which btw, is why I'm posting this. :/ I broke my story and it's not showing that I updated two chapters today. :/ Trying to get it fixed.  
> So you now get a new much bigger chapter!!!
> 
> Also, the comments were deleted automatically when I deleted the chapter. Sorry about that. I did make use of your comment, as you can see, although I didn't intend to actually change the chapter until I wrote the new one. :D

“We still have light!” Marianne furiously thrust her amber torch in Bog’s face. “We need to keep looking!”

“I want to keep looking too!” Sunny stated stubbornly. The three of them stood on the second floor, where they had met up and searched together an hour earlier. 

The sun had almost fully set, and Bog was the only one paying attention to the temperature. They spent the entire day searching and only covered the top and bottom floors. The middle story was still mostly unexplored, the house was so big.

“Marianne, love, it’s going to be too cold to look very soon. Do ye not feel how cold it’s getting? Yer shaking, both of ye.” Bog shivered. “We need to go. Now.” He rubbed his hands over his arms beneath his cloak, exhaling a huge cloud.

“We have to find Dawn!” Marianne broke into tears of frustration, swinging her light to look around.

“We do,” agreed Bog. “But we won’t do her any good if we’re too cold to carry her back.” He was trying to be considerate, but they were beginning to get on his nerves, both of them. Reasoning with them to leave would end in Bog grabbing them and carrying them out, and he did not want to do that to Marianne. It just felt wrong.

Bog took a breath, walking after Marianne, who was shivering and flicking her wings out, obviously trying to keep them from going stiff from the cold. “Love, please, we need to leave now. We will be back first thing in the morning.” Bog didn’t want to be seen pleading in front of Sunny, but this was a tenuous situation. He crouched low as he spoke, then gave up and grabbed Marianne from the back, holding her for a moment against him.

“Marianne,” he murmured, just holding her. “We will be back in the morning. Do not make me drag ye back, because I will for yer own safety.” She was silent for a moment, shaking in Bog’s arms, then slumped back against him.

“I’m so afraid for her,” Marianne whispered.

“I know ye are,” Bog whispered back. “Let’s go. We need to eat something, get warmed up, and get a good night’s sleep to return and search again.”

Marianne nodded. “Sunny, let’s go.” The elf stared at her, then looked into the surrounding darkness, shivering. He couldn’t look for Dawn alone, and he was beginning to lose sensation in his fingers and toes. He sighed and gave in, following the two fairies.

-=-=-=-=- 

Roland watched from the safety of a large tree full of hiding places far from the house. He had a good enough view to see the light from their lanterns as they got on the owl and left. He winced, his breath freezing in the air in front of him. His torn leather armor had been discarded, and the wound was wrapped. 

Earlier in the evening, he paid a little visit to a small isolated house a reasonable distance away. He forced his way inside and quickly dispatched the elderly male elf inside, then disposed of the body and set about making himself at home. There was plenty of food, firewood, and everything he needed to hole up for an extended length of time.

Now, he was back for Dawn. Roland was confident they had not found her and flew into the house, going directly to where he had hidden her. On the second floor behind the remains of a fireplace. Dawn was curled up in a ball, her knees tucked beneath her chin. Roland scooped her up easily, thankful she was so incredibly light. Her wings broke when he lifted her, the pieces falling to the wooden floor.

He took off as quickly as he could, knowing he would be able to hide out a few days, possibly as long as it took for Dawn to change. He needed time to heal.

-=-=-=-=- 

Griselda was waiting for them when they got home. She had blankets warming near the fire, a pot of stew on the stove, and warm bread and tea. Judging by their glum looks and how late it was, she didn’t ask how it went. Obviously, they did not find Dawn.

The three stripped out of their cold, wet clothing and settled in front of the fire under blankets. Everyone was silent as Griselda brought them food and drink. Bog was the only one who ate at first, knowing he had to. It was a delicious rabbit stew, which he assumed came from the rabbit Roland killed. 

Bog felt bad about enjoying the stew as he sopped his bread into the thick broth, seeing both Marianne and Sunny staring at their bowls, stirring it slowly with their spoons. However, he had to eat, and so did they. He set his bowl aside and went to work on Marianne.

“Ye need to eat, love, or ye won’t have energy for tomorrow.” Bog scooted beside Marianne, wrapping an arm over her shoulders, sliding his hand down her arm to make her lift the spoon to her mouth. She didn’t fight him, but sighed, sipping the soup out of the spoon.

Sunny grumbled, glancing at them and beginning to eat. “We’ll find Dawn tomorrow.”

“We will,” agreed Marianne, nibbling on the bread. Bog smiled, dropping his hand, but remaining beside his wife.

They ate, drank Griselda’s tea, then retired to bed, with Sunny falling asleep near the fire in one of the comfortable chairs. Marianne cried herself to sleep in the comfort of Bog’s arms, which only took a few minutes. Bog wasn’t used to seeing her cry and just held her.

-=-=-=-=- 

The next morning, they got up early, before the sun even rose. None of them were able to sleep, too anxious about their search for the day. Marianne grumbled, rereading the journals. Bog read over her shoulder in silence. They were seated on one of the bigger couches in the living area, with Marianne reclining between his legs, resting against his chest. Sunny sat on the other side of the room, staring mournfully into the fireplace.

“Yer just torturing yerself, love,” stated Bog, flicking the edge of the journal in her hands. “What are ye looking for that ye haven’t already read?”

“Hope,” sighed Marianne, dropping her head back against his chest to peer at him. “Something that says he lied and Torbil wasn’t actually a monster. There’s a couple of pages missing.”

“Ye sure?” Bog looked at the falling apart book in Marianne’s hands.

“Yeah, see this jagged strip here?” She ran her fingers down the book’s gutter. “And this sentence on this page behind them. The truth is in Torbil’s rest.”

“I hate riddles.” Bog and Marianne stated simultaneously. Marianne sighed at her husband, giving him a small smile.

“You’re right.” Marianne closed the book. “But what does it mean? Torbil’s rest?”

“Whatever room was his bedroom in yer castle? Did he have a tomb? Do ye bury yer dead or cremate them?” Bog began running through the possibilities, lifting his hands to massage Marianne’s shoulders.

“We have a family vault inside the castle,” stated Marianne, closing her eyes and enjoying the kneading motion on her shoulders, then her back. “That doesn’t do us any good,” she groaned, making a face. “My father is probably going crazy wondering where Dawn and Sunny are, but he forbade me from going back to the castle until I shed my wings.”

“There’s an easy fix, but it’s not going to make him worry less,” grumbled Bog. “I can fly to the castle and tell him what’s going on.” He tilted his head to kiss the top of Marianne’s head. “I can do that for ye.”

Marianne laid quietly against her husband, thinking it over. “I’ll write a letter, so you don’t have to tell him everything.” She shifted, and Bog’s hands slid over her chest, holding her down against him. 

“Faster for me to fly out there on Albus and tell him. I know what to say.” Bog kissed her head again, then let her go. “I’ll go right now. Sunny, ye want to go back to the fairy castle? I can carry ye back.”

“No,” mumbled Sunny. “We are going to find Dawn, and I want to be here when we do.”

“Yeah.” Bog grumbled, sitting up as Marianne slid off the cushion. “We will find her.”

-=-=-=-=- 

Bog took Albus to the castle, needing the trip to be fast so they could continue searching. He formulated what he would say on the way, hoping his father-in-law wouldn’t be too upset. There was nothing anyone could do other than wait, and that’s what Bog would stress.

Bog was surprised to arrive at the castle and see everyone acting like everything was normal. He was escorted to King Dagda’s study and found the king looking surprisingly unconcerned. His calmness was disconcerting. With as close as Bog knew the king was with his daughters, there was no way he didn’t notice Dawn missing.

“What brings you here today, Bog?” Dagda settled down behind his desk, motioning to one of the comfortable chairs on the other side. 

“Dawn.” Bog stated, pulling up a chair.

“Is she behaving herself?” Dagda inquired.

Bog made a face. “Behaving herself?”

“Yes, she left a note stating not to worry, she was with Sunny and wanted to visit Marianne for a week,” explained Dagda. “Is that why you are here?”

She left a note. That clever little fairy left a note and spared her father from worry. Bog stared at his father-in-law, torn between letting him believe that all was well and telling him the truth. For Bog, the only option was the truth, as awful as it might be.

“Dagda, Dawn did arrive at my castle, but I sent her home with Sunny immediately, because Marianne and I did not want to worry ye,” Bog began with a sigh, watching the color drain from Dagda’s face. “Sunny and Dawn were attacked, their rabbit killed, and Dawn was taken by Roland, who has undergone a full winter metamorphosis.”

The Fairy King gasped, beginning to breathe quickly. There was nothing he could do, and he knew it. His people could do nothing.

“We have been looking for Dawn every day, Dagda,” Bog stated, hoping he didn’t just cause the older fairy to have a heart attack. “We are still looking, and we will do our best to bring her home. We will not give up.”

Dagda nodded, for the moment, completely silent. He steadied his breathing and fixed Bog with a stern look. “Bog. Find my daughter. Please. You need to leave now.” He rose shakily, motioning to the door. “Bog, go.”

“Dagda? Are ye okay?” Bog rose, fixing the king with a concerned look. Something was off about him, an intensity he had never witnessed before in the old king’s green eyes.

“I’m fine. I need to know you’re out there looking for her.” Dagda walked to the door, opening it for Bog. “I trust you, Bog. I know you and Marianne will do your best.”

“We will find her,” stated Bog in passing, still concerned, his wings twitching as he walked into the hall. Dagda closed the door behind him a little louder than necessary.

-=-=-=-=- 

Dagda hurried to his desk, his mind made up. He pulled out a sheet of paper and a quill, writing down the names of twelve of his best soldiers, men he trusted who would do whatever he told them to do. He wrote out the order for them to come and meet with him immediately, along with summoning several of his best healers.

He dispatched the summons for the soldiers and healers, then returned to his desk, writing out a set of instructions for the healers, a timetable of one week. There was only one way to help in the search for Dawn, and it required putting his troops through a carefully controlled winter metamorphosis, one which he would join them in. Twelve hours in the cold was the limit, then six to seven days of sleep.

The entire kingdom would hear of this, but it was worth it to save Dawn. If she went through a full metamorphosis, stuck out in the cold for a week, then he expected his daughter to be a savage creature, with only a little bit of his little girl inside. He might be needed to get her back to the castle, where he hoped they would find a way to reverse the effects. He wasn’t sure if they could, but he had to do everything in his power to help her.

-=-=-=-=- 

Bog, Marianne, and Sunny returned to the farmhouse, and finished exploring the second floor, then went to the bottom floor and searched it again, only finding hibernating pixies. They returned to the second floor, going over it again, and just before evening, Bog caught the faint scent of Roland near the fireplace.

“She was here.” Bog stated mournfully, holding up a piece of Dawn’s wing. Marianne and Sunny stood near the spot where the rest of the remnants were, noticing the footprints in the dust and how it had been disturbed recently.

“Roland moved her,” sighed Marianne. “Probably after we left.” She turned and glared at Bog. “We should have kept looking.”

“We wouldn’t have found her,” stated Bog. “We weren’t anywhere near here.”

Marianne continued glaring at Bog, then turned away, running the back of her hand over her eyes. “I’m sorry, Bog, I’m not blaming you. We need to continue looking.”

“We’ll come back tomorrow.” Bog frowned. “We’ll search the surrounding forest. He has to be nearby.”

Marianne said she didn’t blame him, but he slept alone that night.

And the next night.

Each night hurt more than the last, and Bog didn’t press it, dutifully expanding the search each day with no luck. Marianne’s sole focus was on finding Dawn or Roland. Bog followed her lead in silence, deciding it was best to not say anything at all. He had no idea how to handle the situation.

They tracked Roland’s blood trail until it vanished, then searched that area with Bog unable to detect anything other than old scents, none that lead anywhere. Bog began blaming himself for this turn events.

He was the one with the tracking knowledge, instincts, and the ability to hunt by scent, yet he was proving useless. Bog began getting depressed about his inability to find any clues. There was nothing to be found. Dawn was gone, and if they had just tried harder on that first night, they would have had her at home, safe with them and not somewhere in Roland’s care.

On the fifth night, Bog was the one driving himself into the search, so focused on trying to find any signs of Dawn for Marianne that he didn’t see the storm clouds rolling in until the snow began falling. Sunny hadn’t accompanied them on this trip, so it was only him, Marianne, and Albus.

Bog ignored the snow and increasing wind, wearily checking every tree for signs of habitation. He didn’t hear Marianne calling for him, even though she was close, so intent on his searching, paying attention to what he could smell and see, his wings buzzing frantically behind him.

“Bog!” Marianne slammed into him from the back, trying to get his attention.

“What?” he snapped, wide-eyed.

“We need to return home! It’s too cold!” Marianne shivered against him, gripping his cloak, He stared at her blankly for a moment. “What is wrong with you? You’ve been so distant.”

“We need to find Dawn,” muttered Bog sadly, turning away as the chill suddenly became evident. “I’m sorry, Marianne.” He broke, apologizing profusely. “I failed ye and Dawn. I’m sorry. I made a mistake. We should have continued looking that first night.”

“What?” Marianne stared at him, then she gasped. “You, Bog, we’ll talk about this when we get home!” Bog nodded, flying to the owl with Marianne. He dropped onto Albus’ back, and Marianne dropped in front of him, facing him, siding her arms beneath his cloak. Bog wrapped an arm around her, pulling his cloak over her, clicking to the owl to go.

She kissed him on the neck as they flew, her lips warm against him. Bog closed his eyes, trusting the owl to get them home. “I’m sorry, love.” He apologized again.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Bog,” she whispered. “Is this why you’ve been distant?”

“I’ve been distant? Ye haven’t come back to bed with me since that night,” stated Bog. “I know yer worried about Dawn, so didn’t want to bring it up.”

“I didn’t want to bother you,” sighed Marianne. “And I might have been a little mad at you the first night, but that was just me, then it was just awkward. I really don’t blame you, Bog.”

“We should have escorted them home to make sure they got there safely.” Bog stated mournfully.

“We didn’t know there was anything dangerous out there.” Marianne leaned her head against Bog’s chest. “I love you. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I kinda thought you didn’t want me with you, with how I’ve been these last few days.”

“Are ye kidding?” Bog lowered his head. “That’s when I want to be with ye the most so I could comfort ye and make ye feel better.”

Marianne grimaced. “We need to work on our communication.”

“Well, we went how long before something like this happened?” chuckled Bog, relaxing and feeling much better with Marianne in his arms. “I need ye, love, I need to be there for ye when yer hurting and worried.”

Marianne went silent, resting against Bog and feeling much better in general, even though she still worried about Dawn. It was too late. They were going to have to give up on finding Dawn before she changed and would be dealing with a different version of her. Who knew what that would be like, but they would handle it together.

-=-=-=-=-

Roland stood in the doorway of the small bedroom he had put Dawn in. He had checked on her daily, keeping her in a room without a lit fire so that it was cold. Unsure of how the cold changed them or how much was required, he observed her several times a day.

Dawn’s body changed, just like his had. It was an astonishing thing to witness over such a short time as she grew claws like his own, her face changed with the structure of her teeth, and her body, in general, was altered. The change wasn’t as extreme in her as it was in him, but that may have just been because she was younger and female. 

He assumed he had another day for her to finish her transformation as he closed the door. Another day and he would see what kind of creature the sweet little princess would become. On the other side of the door, Dawn stirred, opening her eyes to the darkness and cold and a grumble in her stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dagda got me out of the blue with that decision. :D I waffled for a few minutes, then went, yup, he's going to do it. Anything for his dear Dawn, even if it means the secret getting out, which it will. Bog did not bring up the question about Torbil's rest, because he doesn't consider it important, hoping they would find her faster.
> 
> I thought it would be a lot more useful if Dagda went through the metamorphosis sooner than later, otherwise, almost a whole week would pass before he and his men were in play. I have zero idea what's currently going on and how things are going to play out. :D
> 
> Comments are wonderful!


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dawn wakes up early and isn't quite what Roland expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I update early, I probably won't sit waiting at my email box...

Dawn blinked, her eyes adjusting to the darkness with amazing clarity. Her back itched like it usually did when she regrew her wings each spring. But it wasn’t spring. She pushed herself upright, going over the last things she remembered.

Roland. Dawn growled and startled herself with the sound, clapping her hands over her mouth. She felt the fangs and whimpered, running a finger over her teeth. They were mostly the same, but her canines were noticeably pointier. And she had claws. She whined, running one hand over the other, feeling the tips of her fingers.

She remembered.

And she began crying, overwhelmed by her situation, then she stopped and stood. Dawn couldn’t do anything about what happened to her, but she could use this new body, a body that felt surprisingly strong. Her stomach growled again, and she ignored it, walking around the room and flexing her shoulders, willing her wings to break free so they could stretch and dry. She needed her wings to escape this place, whatever it was.

Dawn pushed a curtain away from the window and saw it was dark outside. Snow was falling and piling up against the window. It appeared she was on the top floor in an elf house. That meant she was in her kingdom. Elves didn’t live outside the boundary. Dawn twisted and felt the thin covering over her wings break and felt them unfurl like they naturally would. It was cold in the room, but they would still dry.

She tried the door to find it locked. There was no way out at the moment. She took a step back, twitching her wings, staring at the door in thought. Someone locked the door. That someone was likely Roland, and he would come in to check on her at some point.

She smiled, a plan forming in her mind.

-=-=-=-=- 

Marianne woke to the comforting smell of her husband, nestled into his warmth. There would be no searching today. They had searched relentlessly, every day, for the last six days and were exhausted. Tomorrow, they would go out again, with the hopes they would find Dawn awake and… sane. Marianne was prepared to have to talk down some wild creature into coming home with them.

Bog was prepared to do the same, entirely on board with retrieving Dawn, in whatever state she was in. They had a long conversation when they went to bed together the previous night. A conversation they should have had the first evening when Marianne was clearly angry and frustrated, and her husband was trying to appease her. She made a note of it, not to let that happen again, because the days that followed were more stressful for her than they should have been, and she unintentionally hurt Bog.

She never considered that Bog would blame himself for not being able to find Dawn, feeling alone and isolated while standing right next to her. There was an awkward chasm between them, and she turned it into her drive to find her sister, figuring they would fix it later. Only each passing day made it harder, and after months of always being together, touching, and talking, they were silent and afraid to touch at all for fear of offending the other.

It was strange how the wall popped up into place between them that neither actually wanted and had no idea how to cross. Bog admitted what he had been holding onto, the words spilling out like they had when he offered her himself following the destruction of his castle. It reminded Marianne that for as strong, confident, and capable as Bog was, he still harbored insecurities about himself and imagined weaknesses.

This was not something that would change about him. For some reason, Bog was just like that when he felt alone like everything was his fault. Marianne snuggled closer, closing her eyes, feeling Bog begin to stir and shift his shoulders. She needed to make sure she didn’t push him away like that again. If she was mad, they needed to talk and get through it, or it would hurt both of them.

Normally, they did okay, but this was the first time Marianne was angry with Bog personally, and he hadn’t even done anything to deserve it. She was just mad at the situation, and the only target was her husband. Marianne sighed, his arms gently sliding over hers as he hugged her. Bog wasn’t a valid target. 

“Good morning, love,” murmured Bog, his hands traveling pleasantly down her back. “Just lay here for a while. We’ll get up and begin mapping our plan for tomorrow after breakfast.”

“I love you,” sighed Marianne, kissing him on the neck and chin, then moving to his waiting lips. “I love you.”

-=-=-=-=-

Keeping her wings tucked tightly against her, Dawn pretended to sleep in the same position she had been laying in for days. She could hear Roland coming up the stairs and was waiting for him. Her plan was simple, wait for the door to open and Roland to come inside the room, then get out as fast as she could, locking him inside. That was the key part. Lock the door behind her, look for something to eat, then get out of the house and either fly home or to Bog and Marianne’s home.

The latter would be best. While she waited, she hoped and prayed that Sunny was okay. Her dear, sweet Sunny. She would never forgive herself if he was hurt. It was her own fault this had happened. Dawn worried her lower lip, tasted blood, and sighed. She kept forgetting she had fangs. 

Dawn licked her lips and grumbled as her stomach began churning again at the taste. She had always been a little squeamish about the sight and smell of blood, but now, it made her hungry. For meat. That was what she was craving. Meat. Something which she usually shunned. She tasted it at Bog and Marianne’s last party and didn’t like it, so desiring it was baffling and frightening.

Footsteps creaked up the stairs, breaking through Dawn’s thoughts. She closed her eyes and waited, slowing her breathing and curling her fingers, digging them into the blanket she laid upon. A moment later, the lock on the door clicked, and the door slowly opened. Light spilled into the room, and Roland stepped through the door, crossing it to where Dawn’s bed was, under the window, opposite the door.

To Roland’s eyes, Dawn was still sleeping, curled up facing him. “One more day,” he grumbled, turning around, his wings rustling as he did it. Dawn’s eyes opened, and she was up faster than she even knew she could move, hitting Roland in the back and knocking him down. He went down with a pained cry as she slammed into his still injured shoulder.

Dawn didn’t wait for him to recover, fleeing out the door and slamming it closed behind her. There was just one problem with her plan. She didn’t have the key, and it was a keyhole lock. Dawn gasped as Roland roared and slammed into the door with his full weight, splintering it. She turned and fled down the stairs as fast her wings could carry her.

In a panic, Dawn reached the foot of the stairs to a crashing sound coming behind her. The door was right in front of her. Once she was outside, she could fly, even if it was cold. She remembered that Marianne could do this because of her change. Dawn slammed into the door, fumbling with the knob. Her awkwardly long fingers tipped in curving claws slipping over the smooth metal.

The door opened, and she was out, blinded momentarily by bright morning sunlight. Her new wings snapped so hard it sent ripples of pain through her back. They were new, and she should not have been using them, but she had to get away from Roland. She took off to the east, flying as hard as she could across an open, snow-covered field.

“Dawn! Stop!” Roland called as he pursued her across the field and into the forest. Dawn had no idea where she was going, but she flew as fast as she could and, within a few minutes, couldn’t hear Roland yelling at her. She kept going, not wanting to take chances, her adrenaline carrying her rapidly through unfamiliar land. Panicked, Dawn didn’t slow down until a human house suddenly appeared in front of her.

Breathing hard, Dawn landed in a tree near the house, looking around frantically for a place to hide. There was a small storage building nearby with an opening up high in the roof. She could sneak in there, find a spot up high to wedge herself into out of the cold, and take a moment to rest.

The exhausted fairy quickly flew into the hole and found herself inside a neatly organized shed. An intoxicating smell overcame her, and without thinking, she dropped to the wooden floor in front of two bowls near a wall. One of the bowls was full of water, the other piled full of some kind of moist, shredded meat. Without thinking about it, Dawn dove into the meat, shoving mouthfuls of it into her mouth, ravenously feeding. It was tasty meat in some sort of thick gravy with little yellow pieces of something soft and creamy. The bowls were warm.

Dawn sighed, wiping a hand over her messy face, her hunger sated. She hopped onto the edge of the bowl to clean her hands and face off in the clear water, and when she did, a stream of water shot up out of the middle of it. She stared in awe for a moment, then reached out to clean her hands, watching as the greasy gravy was washed off her in the warm water. She was able to cup her hands and drink her fill out of the fountain, clean water.

This was a fantastic find. Food and fresh water that was available for her. Dawn perched on the edge of the water bowl, taking a moment to look at herself. She had better light to see how different she looked, and she began crying. Tears streamed down her face, and she lifted her head to let it out.

A low purr and a meow alerted Dawn she wasn’t alone. She spun around to find herself face to face with a black cat, a cat so old her head was grey with age, and she only had one eye, nicks in her ears, and a slash over her muzzle. Dawn was sure she was about to be the cat’s breakfast until she realized she had seen this cat before. 

Ciara. This was Bog’s cat. He brought her to his home earlier in the fall to make sure she knew Marianne, Sunny, and Dawn by scent. Dawn had been terrified of the massive animal, even though Bog assured her his cat was uplifted, a process that made her obedient and understanding to fairies. The cat remained where she sat, peering at Dawn curiously.

“Ciara?” Dawn stated, holding her hands up. “I just needed something to eat and drink.”

Ciara purred, standing and swishing her long tail behind her. She stepped forward and began eating, still purring. Dawn relaxed, her wings twitching anxiously behind her. Bog’s cat might take her to Bog if she asked her to. “Ciara. Can you take me to Bog?” The cat looked at her, chewing her food, her single eye half closing. Dawn wasn’t certain what that meant as Ciara returned to eating.

Dawn reached out to touch her on the neck, running her hand through her thick black fur. Ciara kept purring, her tail swishing high in the air over her back. After a few minutes, she finished and took a long drink. Dawn fluttered up to the cat’s shoulders and sat down with a sigh, taking note of the goblin made harness wrapped over the cat’s body.

“I need you to take me to Bog,” she asked again, gripping handfuls of the cat’s fur to keep her balance. Ciara continued purring and sat down to quickly wash her face. Dawn groaned, asking again, “Please, Ciara, I need to go to Bog.”

Never breaking her purr, Ciara finished washing her face and whiskers, then strolled slowly across the floor of the shed. There were several large crates in the back with bits of straw scattered in front of them. Ciara meowed, and another black cat, a far younger one popped out of the hole she stopped in front of. They bumped heads, purring, then Dawn yelped as Ciara crouched to slip through the hole, almost wiping her off her shoulders.

Dawn pressed down to Ciara’s shoulders as the cat circled, then stretched out on a soft blanket that was spread on the inside of the crate. It was warm and dark, but Dawn could see exceptionally well with the light that did get in from the opening. She smiled, laying on the cat’s side, her wings flicking above her as the cat rumbled beneath her. 

Ciara had kittens. Two fat, round bundles of fluffy fur with tiny triangular ears and little short stubby paws. One was solid white, the other black, like Ciara. Dawn smiled, watching the two kittens nursing, her eyes slowly closing with how comfortably warm the den was. She yawned and slipped into a deep sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I planned on Ciara being in this story from the start. This is the cat Bog brought home when he and his dad went to the human world to get his mom a corgi. The corgi passed away in the interim and that's why he doesn't show up. :D That and I hadn't decided what I was doing at that point with the general first story and didn't know if I wanted to include him, since he would complicate things. ;)
> 
> Ciara's a very sweet cat, smart, old, and yes, I DID indeed go and check the oldest recorded age a cat has had kittens. :D 30 years old. WOW. A 30 year old cat had kittens! Ciara's not that old. :D Bog btw, has the ability to control his cat population so they don't breed like crazy.
> 
> Which one of you wanted Dawn to have a cat? :D 
> 
> There was no choice in what Dawn would end up eating when she was really hungry after her change. It takes a LOT out of fairies to go through that change. I just couldn't see Dawn stalking some poor animal and killing it and I believe she would be repulsed enough to only do it if she were truly starving. So she eats some kitty food. She doesn't really have a choice in what her body is requiring of her, because that's part of the purpose of this change, survival in tough lands/times where they needed a hunter's instincts to survive.
> 
> And yes, I completed the story this morning. It was tricky and I have enough notes for two more stories following this one and a short that needs to be done.
> 
> Happy Easter and I hope you enjoy reading this!


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marianne and Bog discuss what state they will find Dawn in, while Dawn tries to get home.

“Today’s the day,” stated Marianne grimly, nibbling on a piece of toast covered in a warm acorn porridge. Griselda hurried around the kitchen, putting together a pack to load on Albus with food for later, a warming herbal drink for them to share, and a chunk of raw rabbit meat wrapped tightly in a waxed paper bundle.

“Yeah,” mumbled Bog, his eyes on his wife for a moment and her stressed expression. They were luring out an animal, hunting, not rescuing. He chewed on a few pieces of lightly fried rabbit in between bites of the same porridge. 

Sunny took a deep breath, his face contorted in dread. “Do you think Dawn will be like Roland? He was an awful person to begin with, but Dawn could never be like him, right?”

“We won’t know until we find her, and it’s likely she’s with Roland. He might have her confined somewhere.” Marianne reached onto Bog’s plate of rabbit, retrieved a small piece, and angrily bit into it, annoyed with herself for craving it. The smell of the raw meat actually triggered something in her, a desire to hunt.

“There is one thing you could do that you may not have thought of.” Griselda closed the second of three packs, wiping her hands on her apron. “You could stay here and see if Dawn simply comes here. She knows she can’t return to the fairy castle, right? But she would see this castle as a welcome, safe place.”

Bog and Marianne exchanged thoughtful looks. Could something that simple work? Just wait for her? 

“We need her to know we’re looking for her,” stated Marianne. “We’ll run into either Roland or Dawn while we’re out this time. I’m sure of it.”

Bog groaned, slapping both hands down on the table, digging his nails into the wood tabletop. He huffed, his shoulder plates rising and wings flaring out behind him. Marianne, Sunny, and Griselda stared at him curiously, unsure what to make of his reaction.

“There is a way to lure Roland out,” growled Bog, his eyes set on the table. “And it’s not raw rabbit.” He slowly lifted his eyes to look at Marianne. “I do not like this option, but it is an option if we want to find Dawn.”

Marianne pursed her lips at the thought. “Bog, I’m much stronger than I was before this change.”

“And so is he,” pointed out Bog. “I am against it.”

“You brought it up,” stated Marianne, taking another bite of rabbit meat. She looked at the meat in her hand, chewing on it and finding it unsettling satisfying and delicious.

“We must consider all the options.” Bog sighed. Sunny went back to trying to eat while Griselda sat down to eat her own breakfast.

Bog’s eyes drifted to his wife, watching her eat like she hated what she was eating. He reached out and placed a hand on hers, pushing it down to the table. “Don’t eat it if it disgusts ye, love. It’s okay.”

“That’s not it.” Marianne looked at him in frustration. “It’s delicious! I can’t get enough of it. You know I keep eating it.”

“Yes.” Bog nodded slowly.

“The smell of blood used to sicken me, like the day I accompanied you on the rabbit hunt.” Marianne leaned closer to him, whispering. “Now it makes me want to look for the source and hunt. I don’t know how to deal with this and Dawn-” she broke into tears- “Dawn has been out there so long! What is she going to be like?”

“Let’s not fear the worst.” Bog wrapped his arm around Marianne’s shoulders, pulling her close. “We will deal with what we find, but there is something to consider. Roland was still Roland. He was still thinking and acting with conscious thought, so he wasn’t an animal, any more than he already was.”

“There’s a strong possibility King Laine lied,” grumbled Marianne, taking a moment to relax. “I have a suspicion that he tried to kill Torbil, failed, then Torbil came back, and he had to hide what he did by treating him like a monster.”

“Sounds logical.” Bog nodded. “Let’s think about it like that. Perhaps we will find Dawn like you, a little more aggressive, which might make her as dangerous as a dragonfly.” He smiled at his wife, who gave him an annoyed look.

“So you’re saying, as dangerous as you?” The annoyed look shifted into a smirk.

Bog’s blue eyes lit up, and he smiled. “Exactly! This is Dawn we’re talking about. She might look tough on the outside…” he trailed off, grimacing.

“But she might be the same puddle of fluff and goo on the inside!” Marianne laughed, jabbing a finger into Bog’s chest plate.

“I am not a puddle of fluff and goo on the inside!” exclaimed Bog with an excited smile, hitting the table hard enough to make everyone’s bowls and cups jump. 

“Keep telling yourself that,” Marianne all but purred, getting up and leaning in on Bog, going for his lips, which he enthusiastically welcomed.

Sunny sighed loud enough to be heard, reminding them they weren’t alone at the table. Bog and Marianne immediately separated and went back to eating their breakfast, a little more eagerly and with hope.

* 

Dawn yawned, waking up between two soft, warm pillows of fur. She nestled against one, smiling at the comforting sound of hearts beating. Ciara purred around them, where she had been for most of the previous day and night. Dawn got up a few times to eat more food and drink, then she slept. 

Ciara purred, licking Dawn’s head. She got up and stretched, and another warm body filled her spot, another purring cat. “Good morning.” Dawn grinned at the cats. Ciara meowed, looked at the opening, then meowed at Dawn again.

“Are you taking me to Bog?” Dawn stretched, reluctantly leaving the warm nest. She fluttered her wings and flew after the cat. 

The cat stretched again, sliding her forepaws forward with a purr, then arching her back and flexing her hind legs one at a time. Dawn flew past her to the food bowl, which had been freshly filled. The little fairy ate a few bites while the cat sat nearby and purred. Ciara meowed, looking at the small hole that lead inside the storage shed.

“One moment.” Dawn flew to the water bowl to wash her hands and face in the little spring, then took a long drink. Ciara waited patiently. Dawn flew to her, landing on the cat’s back between her shoulder blades. She wore a goblin fashioned harness with handholds on the collar and a quick release snap should the cat get caught on something. 

Dawn made herself comfortable, and Ciara waited until she stopped moving around to leave the shed. To think she had been frightened of Bog’s cat when she first saw her and now, the cat had watched over her during the night and was taking her to Bog.

Ciara took off across the yard at a steady pace. The ground wasn’t covered in snow, but it was muddy. Dawn giggled, forgetting about her predicament for the moment, flicking her wings out behind her. The sunlight hit them, and warmth flooded through them and into her back. She glanced back and gasped. 

Dawn’s wings were like Marianne’s now, smaller, with her normal color covering half of them, then transitioning to transparent gold with a shiny pink sheen over the lower half. Then Dawn looked at her arms and sighed. This was not something that was going to change. Her delicate, slender, and smooth arms were longer, more muscular, and her hands. Dawn loosened her grip on the collar with one hand, examining the short curved claws at the tip of each finger. 

She could file them and put on all the nail polish she wanted, but it would not hide how they changed. Dawn sighed, putting her hand back on the collar. She hoped her sister and Bog would recognize her. Surely they would.

* 

Roland growled to himself, having spent most of the previous day trying to hunt down Dawn. He had followed her scent trail into the woods near the human house, then lost her. Surely she wouldn’t have gone there. There were cats all over the place, a constant rotation of over half a dozen of them that appeared to move on a set path up and down the perimeter of the forest near the house.

No, the princess wouldn’t go into an area with so many predators. Still, Roland flew nearby, keeping high in the trees. There were no signs of Dawn, and he retreated back to his home. The longer he was out, the more he risked running into Bog and Marianne. Considering what he had done, and the wounds Bog’s owl gave him were not completely healed, he needed to avoid them.

The next morning, he was out just after sunrise, hiding in the trees near the human house, considering the possibilities. During the night, he remembered that the only cats in the Dark Forest and Fairylands were controlled by the goblins. They rarely left the edge of the forest, except when a few were at the Bog King’s new castle. 

He was rewarded.

*

Albus stretched his wings, hooting softly as the two fairies and the elf prepared for their flight. They were leaving a little later than usual, needing the full light of morning to search today. The owl flapped his wings, flaring them out into the sunlight. 

Then the screeching broke the air, a cat yowling in pain and fear not far away. Bog was immediately alert, scanning the area around the tree. “Albus, fly!” He clicked to the owl, grinding his jaw. That was one of his cats, and there was nothing in his forest that would dare attack them. 

“What is it?” Marianne gripped Bog around the waist as he scanned the ground, looking for the cat.

“A cat,” snarled Bog, his pauldrons flared and wings shaking at the threat. “Something has attacked one of my cats!” He gasped, catching sight of the cat, limping hurriedly to his tree. He could see the telltale grey face of his favored pet, Ciara. Bright red blood glistened off her shoulders and haunches. The old queen was limping, but moving quickly.

“Land!” Bog ordered the owl, urging it toward the cat with a series of clicks and chirps.

“Is that your Ciara?” Marianne leaned over, gasping at the state of the cat.

“Yes,” hissed Bog, leaping off the owl before he landed. Ciara panted in distress, her whiskers quivering and set forward. Blood dripped from a set of well-placed slashes crossing her remaining eye. “Ciara!” Bog called to her, and she turned her head in his direction, hurrying to him, meowing plaintively.

The cat almost knocked Bog down, unable to see where she was going, then continued meowing pathetically as Bog wrapped his arms around her head and pressed his face against her velvety nose. “Ciara! What did this to ye?!” Marianne joined Bog, but stood behind him, watching as his entire body heaved and he began crying into the cat’s fur.

Bog suddenly went stiff, inhaling deeply. “I smell Dawn. I smell Roland.” He took a few more shuddering breaths. “Fear scent.” Bog dragged his clawed hand gently over Ciara’s muzzle and down the side of her face, walking shakily to her side to look at the damage. “We will get ye to a safe place, Ciara.”

“Please tell me Dawn didn’t attack your cat.” Marianne followed Bog, her wings half raised, twitching anxiously. “Please.”

“No, that’s not what I’m getting with the scents. Dawn’s scent is heavy on Ciara. She must have found her, and my cat was bringing her to us.” Bog continually inhaled through his nose, tears glistening on his cheeks despite his efforts to stop them. “The fear scent is strong, recent. I think Roland saw Dawn on my cat and attacked the cat, then either he caught Dawn or she fled. She was afraid.” Bog trembled, almost able to feel the fear. “Dawn was so afraid.”

“Bog,” Marianne looked at her husband, who was sinking his hands into the cat’s side and trying to hide the fact he was crying by pressing his face into her fur. She wrestled with the need to backtrack the cat immediately, and her husband’s need to tend to the injured, blind cat. “Let’s get Ciara inside where she can be treated, then we need to follow her blood trail. We have to do this fast!”

Bog nodded in agreement, glancing back at the owl. “Roland will not attack the owl. Follow the trail, and I will join ye when I get her inside. Do not leave the owl, Marianne. Albus will protect ye.”

“I promise,” Marianne stated, stepping forward to give Bog a quick, firm hug. “Do what you need to. Don’t worry about me.”

“I will always worry about ye.” Bog hugged her back for a moment, then turned to his cat. “Ciara, follow me!” He clicked to the cat, and she obediently turned her head in his direction. Bog lifted into the air, dragging his hand over Marianne’s as they parted. He flew in front of the cat and clicked at her, getting her moving forward. 

Marianne grimaced at the slashes, knowing the cat was very old, and the injuries could be life-threatening. She had never seen Bog react like that to anyone but herself and knew how much the cat meant to him. Ciara was the last physical connection to his father.

Taking a deep breath, Marianne flew to the owl’s saddle and clicked at him like Bog had taught her. “Okay, Albus, follow the trail of blood.” The owl bobbed his head and spread his wings, taking to the air in a few strong flaps. Obediently, he soared over the blood trail, heading to the north.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This change is meant as an environmental adaption, which is obvious by the shift in dietary needs. I tend to treat the regular fairies as omnivores, who crave sugar and process it easier than anything else. Being tiny creatures, they would have a really high metabolism.   
> Actually craving protein is an alien concept, and urges to hunt, which would serve them well in dire situations are probably very disturbing. Marianne only has those urges a little. Dawn's are at Bog's level, as in, if it moves fast, it might be food. :D Bog has his under control and he's not starving. Dawn's still new to it.  
> I felt a little bad for Dawn's changes, but she'll deal. :D  
> Have a good day! Updated a little early today. As usual, I love comments. Leaving them is nice. I love reading them.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dawn tries to evade Roland and thankfully runs into Bog, who has made a few decisions about how to deal with the constant threat to his loved ones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Switching back to morning posting. :D

Dawn fled to the east, into the Dark Forest. It was the only option. The trees provided the best cover, and her shorter wings made it easier for her to fly through the tree limbs. There was only one problem, her wings were not made for any kind of camouflage, and she knew their bright pink and gold color could catch the light at any moment and reveal her location.

When this was over, she swore she would get Bog to teach her how to conceal herself and evade a predator better. For the moment, she couldn’t hear Roland behind her, but that was only because he stopped calling for her. It was likely he was creeping through the trees nearby, but she needed to catch her breath. 

She also needed to stop the bleeding. Dawn tore at the bottom of her dress, using her claws to tear off a thick strip. In his effort to grab her, Roland left several long, shallow gashes on her left arm. Blood dribbled down her arm and would lead him to her if she didn’t stop it. That much she knew. Dawn whimpered, doing her best to wrap her arm, using her teeth to hold one end of the cloth. 

Her right cheek stung, where Roland slapped her when she fought back. She knew her face was cut, but it wasn’t as big of a concern. There were red smudges on the cloth when she moved her hand, blood still under her own nails. It was more in her nature than Roland’s to slap and claw. She had reacted in a fury, terrified for Ciara.

Roland came out of nowhere, taking the old cat by surprise and going for her remaining eye. The cat ran, squalling through the forest, moving by memory around trees and over obstacles. Dawn clung to her for a few minutes, with Roland snarling and coming at the cat from the sides, slashing at her shoulders and hips.

Dawn made her decision quickly, hoping if she fled, Roland would leave the cat alone. She had no idea how far away they were, and if Roland went for Ciara’s neck while the cat couldn’t even see to dodge, he would kill her. That was when Roland grabbed her, and she made sure he regretted it.

A twig broke nearby, followed by the sound of snow falling off a branch. Dawn took a deep breath, and stepped off the branch she was hiding on, thinking that might be unexpected, then she took off to the south, angling to find the edge of the forest. If she could follow the boundary, she would end up at Bog’s castle at some point.

* 

Bog was not pleased.

Ciara had lost a lot of blood and was exhausted by the time he got the door open and coaxed the cat down into the middle of his throne room. She laid on her side, panting. Healers were gathered to tend to her, and he left, furious that if his cat died, he would not be with her. Whether she died or not, he had punishment to deal out on Roland with his own claws.

If Bog caught that monster, he would not think twice about meting out judgment on the spot. Ciara. Dawn. Marianne. He had lives to protect, and at this point, Roland had to die. They could not go on with their lives with that threat always around them. A more serious thought came to mind, each day that passed was another day closer to he and Marianne having children. Tiny children who would be easy prey.

That thought incensed Bog further. This was for the future. He lit off from the castle, following the edge of the forest. North. His cat would have come from the human house they lived at and was attacked on the way. Bog ground his teeth, speeding along up high, his eyes alert for any movement.

Then he saw her, a glimpse of silver and gold flickering out of the tree line. Dawn. Surely it was Dawn, and she wasn’t alone. With a snarl, Bog flew up higher, keeping his eyes on the two fairies, moving quickly into position. Rage overcame him, his blood running hot as he tensed, calculating and shifting as Dawn changed course repeatedly. Smart girl, she weaved, trying to throw obstacles in Roland’s way, but he was catching up. 

If Bog hadn’t seen her, it was possible Roland would have caught her before she reached his castle. Bog huffed, his armored plates rising. Dawn didn’t see him, flying below the branch he waited on. Roland never saw Bog coming as he dropped from the tree in front of him with a roar, striking out with his staff so hard, Bog was sure he heard bones snapping. 

Roland didn’t make a sound, crashing through the branches below them, vanishing into the darkness. With a snarl, Bog went down after him, eyes narrowed as he searched for where he fell. This fairy was slippery, and if he hadn’t knocked him out, then he would only need a few minutes to escape again, and Bog did not want to waste any time in dispatching him.

“Bog!” Dawn slammed into his back, throwing him off balance as she gripped him around the waist. She turned back when she heard him roar, knowing she would be better off with him and having no idea she was interrupting his hunt. “I’m so glad I found you!” Then she began crying.

Bog shook, fighting himself. He had Dawn with him. She was safe, but Roland was so close. He turned, wrapping an arm over Dawn’s shoulders, looking into her frightened eyes. “Are ye okay…” he trailed off, fixated on the bloody scratches on her face. 

“I am not okay!” Dawn wailed, hugging herself tightly to Bog. “I’m a monster, just like Roland!”

Bog landed on a branch, embracing the smaller fairy tightly, listening and watching as he attempted to soothe Dawn’s crying. He spread his wings, ready to fly if he needed to, his staff still in hand. 

“Dawn, ye could never be a monster.” For the moment, Bog’s anger cooled, finding Dawn’s needs more important than his own. “Are ye okay to fly with me? We need to find yer sister and Sunny and get everyone back home immediately.”

“Yeah,” Dawn nodded, taking a step back. Bog sighed, taking a moment to wipe the tears from her eyes and smile encouragingly. “He just scratched me.”

“Keep close.” Bog turned, one hand on Dawn’s shoulder.

“Bog, Ciara came this way… Roland attacked her. Is she okay?” Dawn asked in concern, spreading her wings.

“I do not know. She is at home being taken care of.” Bog spoke evenly, trying to keep his head in the right spot.

“Boggy, she has two kittens,” whispered Dawn.

“What?” Bog whirled around. “Ciara hasn’t had a litter in the last five years! This complicates things. Kittens need their mother. How many?”

“Two,” replied Dawn, biting her lower lip and grimacing as she cut herself again.

“We will get them, but first, yer sister and Sunny.” Bog growled, pushing down his anger. There would be time to hunt Roland another day.

“I guess Roland left when he saw you.” Dawn followed Bog as he dropped off the limb.

“Yeah,” growled Bog, keeping his staff ready as they descended, searching for a body. They flew around the trunk, and Bog spotted streaks of blood on the ground. 

Roland was gone.

Grinding his teeth, Bog said nothing, quickly rising again, veering out of the trees with Dawn close behind. Tomorrow, he would go out alone. Nobody needed to witness what he did. Roland would just vanish from their lives entirely.

* 

Every breath hurt.

But he had to move.

Roland forced himself to his feet a few moments after he hit the ground, stumbling into a massive bush nearby to gather his bearings. His leather armor had protected him, but he had the wind knocked out of him. Roland’s eyes watered as he collapsed, certain Bog would find him, but unable to move any further. He laid there, listening.

He heard Bog and Dawn talking and grumbled, realizing he lost his one advantage. Worse, Dawn could possibly lead Bog and Marianne to the home he had been staying in. He would have to return to his other, more rustic home for the time being. Roland grumbled, hearing the hum of wings leaving.

Silence. Welcome silence. Roland waited a little longer, then creeped out from under the bush, wincing at a sharp pain in his right arm. Searing pain. He scowled, noting that it hung awkwardly from the shoulder, dislocated. Blood dribbled off his fingertips, and the wrap covering his lower arm was ripped, the flesh beneath showing a jagged gash. 

Roland took a deep breath, feeling faint. He was going to need to get his arm fixed, and he smiled, suddenly getting a good idea of who he could go to. Someone who wasn’t the biggest fan of the Bog King.

* 

It didn’t take Bog and Dawn long to find Marianne and Sunny. Albus was perched in a tree at the place where Roland carried out his initial attack on the cat. The snow was churned up and bloody, then ended. Marianne kept her word, remaining on Abus’ back in a nearby tree, watching for Bog to join them.

Dawn flew past Bog with a delighted squeal, so happy to see her sister and Sunny, then back-winged so fast, Bog almost ran into her, throwing her hands in front of herself, remembering what she looked like. Once again, Dawn burst into tears, and Bog grabbed her around the waist, carrying her the rest of the way with her wings hanging limply behind her.

“It’s okay, Dawn, they’ll just see ye as yerself,” Bog whispered. “We have been looking for ye every day.” He carried her to the owl’s back, forcing her to stand on her own in front of her sister and Sunny.

“Dawn!” Marianne grabbed her sister, weeping with a smile on her face as Sunny hugged both of them. “You are you, aren’t you?”

“I think so,” stated Dawn, before making a face, “but I really like meat now.”

“Yeah, so do I,” groaned Marianne.

“This is all nice, but we need to get moving,” growled Bog. “Dawn told me Ciara had kittens, so we need to get them and take them home with us. They will not survive without her.”

“Kittens?” Marianne stared at Bog.

“Yes, it won’t take long, then we get home immediately.” Bog scowled, taking position at the front of the saddle. There was no time to waste. Now that they had Dawn, they had to take care of Ciara and her kittens.

* 

By noon, everyone was exhausted. The kittens were small enough; they were easy to get situated in the carrying bags on the owl, but they were so young they would not tolerate the cold long. Bog worried over them and Ciara once everyone was finally home, leaving Marianne, Dawn, and Sunny to eat and get warmed up.

The goblins moved the cat to the warmer rooms behind the throne room, the unfinished rooms he had initially planned for their winter home. There were fireplaces, and they were lit to provide heat. Blankets had been arranged around the cat. Her wounds had been sutured and treated with a nasty tasting substance that she wouldn’t try to lick.

Ciara was sleeping when Bog brought the first kitten down to her. She had moved to bathe the kitten when he came down with the second. Seeing her moving around was encouraging, even though she seemed weak. He spent the rest of the day with her and would have spent the night alone with her if Marianne hadn’t come down to check on him.

Marianne found Bog, sleeping against Ciara’s neck, his arms wrapped around her, half-buried in her thick black fur. For a moment, she considered leaving him there but missed him too much to walk away.

“Hey, fluffy,” Marianne whispered, reaching out to run a hand over Bog’s cheek. “The bed’s cold without you there.” He smiled, his eyelids raising just enough for her to see the brilliant blue hidden beneath.

“Love,” Bog yawned, rolling over and held his arms out to her. “Sleep with me here tonight?” Marianne looked at the cat, who was in a deep sleep, not sure she wanted to sleep next to such a large, dangerous animal. “It’s okay.” He gestured for her to join him. “When we brought Ciara home, she actually slept in my room until she was too big.”

Marianne nodded, smiling as she settled into Bog’s arms and made herself comfortable half against him, half against the very warm cat. “Is she going to stay here?” 

“Ciara is old and blind,” grumbled Bog, wrapping his arms around Marianne. “I don’t know how long she has and in recent years-” he sighed. “In recent years, I have neglected her. I spent a lot more time with her when we were both younger.”

“What are you going to do with her kittens?” Marianne closed her eyes as Bog’s hands began sleepily, caressing her sides and hips.

“There’s room. I think I would like them to remain here. We raise all our animals among goblins, so they do not hunt them.” Bog murmured in her ear.

“That’s going to take some getting used to,” sighed Marianne, unsure of how well she would adapt to multiple cats hanging around the tree. Albus was one thing. Most of the time, she didn’t see him. He was an unseen protector, but the cats would probably always be around, within sight. 

“My tough girl, my beautiful queen.” Bog nuzzled her ear, then went silent, his breathing steady and warm against her neck. “My love.”

“I love you too.” Marianne closed her eyes, trusting that he knew what he was doing with the cats. They weren’t so bad, and despite the medicine odor in the air, the cat’s fur had a pleasant smell to it, oddly comforting.

*

Roland waited until just after sunset to knock on the door to Sugar Plum’s home, making sure it was loud enough to be heard, but not too energetic. He leaned on the side, putting on his most dramatically injured expression he could. It didn’t take much effort, his right arm hurt every time it moved. His still healing left shoulder and chest were bleeding again, the wounds having been reopened when Bog hit him.

He could sell this easily. 

There was a rustle behind the door of someone moving, then a voice calling out suspiciously, “Who is it?”

“I need help. I need someone to help me,” Roland whined pathetically, adding in a low, pained groan. “It wasn’t enough to drive me from my home in the dead of winter. The Bog King is hunting me, and I need help.”

“Go somewhere else,” came the annoyed reply from the other side of the door. “I don’t harbor fugitives, and I suspect I know who you are. Roland?”

“Please.” Roland slammed a fist on the door, leaning on it. “I am injured, and I’m going to die out here if someone doesn’t help me.” He waited for a moment. “I need someone to set my arm and stop the bleeding. There’s so much blood. I don’t want to die. It’s getting colder. I can’t go anywhere.”

The locks to the door were heard sliding open, and Sugar Plum scowled through the door as she opened it, and light fell on Roland’s slumped, beaten form, clearly showing what he had been through. Sugar Plum gave a little gasp at his state. 

“You went through a full winter metamorphosis,” she stated in awe.

“Is that what this is?” Roland whined, gingerly raising a clawed hand to his head. “He left me for dead in the snow after he destroyed my home.”

Sugar Plum knit her eyebrows. On the one hand, that sounded very much like the Bog, who had imprisoned her all these years. On the other, it did not sound like the Bog he had become recently. She thought his apologies and changed behavior were real, but if what Roland said was true, he really hadn’t changed, and that was more likely.

“Come inside, we will take care of you.” Sugar Plum floated aside with a troubled sigh, and Roland limped inside her house, his head lowered to hide a smug smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might recall, this version of Bog has a healing ability. He didn't heal Dawn's injuries, because they aren't life threatening and he can't waste his limited ability in case he needs it later.
> 
> Marianne calling Bog, fluffy, just goes back to their earlier conversation about how he is inside. ;)
> 
> I giggle every time I pass over the line about Marianne not sure she wanted to sleep next to such a large, dangerous animal - when she sleeps next to Bog all the time. :D


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marianne proposes that the best person to ask about the Winter Metamorphosis is probably the Sugar Plum Fairy, and they all set out for the journey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of two chapters today!

Bog woke to the sound of Dawn whispering. During the night, he and Marianne had shifted a bit closer into Ciara’s fur, with Marianne currently sleeping facing her and Bog wrapped around her, on his side. He opened an eye, sighing that it was probably morning. Dawn appeared to be sitting by the two kittens, who were curled up against their mother’s body. She was petting them, and they were both purring.

It looked like Marianne had given Dawn one of her tunics, a dark purple one that fit her better than the torn dress she had been wearing. The grey rabbit skin cloak that Roland left behind was currently wrapped over the tunic. Beneath it, she wore a pair of Marianne’s black leggings.

“Dawn?” Bog pushed himself up, realizing he hadn’t seen her since they got back, too wrapped up in making sure his cat was okay and needing to keep her company. “Is it morning?”

“Yes.” Dawn nodded with a smile, leaning over to hug the little white kitten. “Griselda sent me down to get you two for breakfast.”

Bog stretched, his wings quivering behind him as they flexed, joints popping from how he had slept. “I recall ye being afraid of my cat.” He smirked at the smaller fairy.

“Not anymore,” giggled Dawn, turning to the black kitten, running her hands through its thick black fur. “How old are they?”

“Probably three or four days old. Ye can tell by how their ears are unfolding and no longer just little stubs.” Bog turned his gaze to his still-sleeping wife. Marianne looked so comfortable, he hated to wake her. “They open their eyes at just under a week. Kittens grow quickly.” Bog reached out to gently rock Marianne’s shoulder.

“Go away,” she mumbled a response, cuddling up to the cat.

Bog put his hand on Ciara’s muzzle, clicking to her, and she shifted, sliding her forelegs out and stretching, knocking Marianne to the side.

“Hey!” Marianne barked, landing on her back, wings flailing out behind her. “I was sleeping!”

“Cranky,” chuckled Bog, glad to see his cat moving around. Despite the number of injuries, Ciara began purring, her head pointed in Bog’s direction. “I’ll get ye some breakfast, Ciara. Ye need to stay here and tend to yer kittens.” He rose, running his hand up over her head, between her ears.

Marianne grumbled for a moment, picking herself up, her eyes going to her husband, watching him look sadly at the cat. The cats purring filled the room as she nudged Bog with her velvety nose. He turned away, his mouth set into a thin line. “I’m sorry I couldn’t heal ye more.” Bog whispered regretfully. 

Dawn kissed the kittens on their heads, then bounced to her sister and Bog. “Bog, can I have one of the kittens?!”

“Have?” Bog turned and gave her a startled look. “What would ye do with a cat?”

“Hug her!” Dawn giggled, clenching her hands together and batting her eyelashes at Bog.

“Same Dawn,” sighed Bog, turning away from her. “Let’s get Ciara food, then go up for breakfast. I’m starving.”

*

Dawn’s understanding of why Bog was the way he was deepened with each passing moment of her new reality. She couldn’t look into a mirror, and she was continually reminded she had fangs, claws, and strange clawed feet that tended to make her walk on her toes. Her arms and legs were longer, thinner, not nearly as pretty as they had once been. She was taller than her sister now and knew that was something that would not change.

Sunny didn’t treat her any differently, sticking around her, touching her, hugging on her, and whispering the same affectionate words he usually did. Bog and Marianne treated her the same, and so did Griselda. But she wasn’t exactly the same, not really. Strange urges crept into Dawn’s thoughts at the smell of food. She wanted meat, craved it, and ate more than normal.

When someone moved too fast around her, a need to hunt rose within her. Any bit of hunger brought on the desire to hunt something, which was a completely foreign feeling. Dawn wanted to hunt, stalk some creature down, kill it, and eat. She hated that feeling and wanted it to go away. It took everything she had not to dig her hands into the plate of rabbit and dried fruit Griselda placed in front of her for breakfast.

She felt a little relieved to see Marianne also eating rabbit. Sunny was an elf, they ate a more varied diet than fairies who tended to prefer sugary sweet foods and drinks. Dawn was still concerned about how he saw her.

“I should fly to the castle and let yer father know Dawn’s with us,” stated Bog, finally able to enjoy his food after days of feeling guilty over one of the things in life he enjoyed. Good, hot food cooked by his mother. Meat.

“Good idea,” agreed Marianne. “But I think we should visit with the Sugar Plum Fairy first and see if she can tell us how long this is going to last and how permanent Dawn’s change is.”

Bog made a face at the suggestion and actually whined, “Marianne, please, she hates me. She told me she didn’t want to see me until we had kids. Unless yer pregnant, I don’t want to bother her.”

“I’m not, and I will do the talking,” sighed Marianne, looking at Dawn, who was poking at her breakfast, head down. “Would you like to come with us, Dawn?”

“Yeah.” She nodded, glancing at her sister and Bog tentatively. “Sunny too?”

“I don’t want you going anywhere without me,” stated Sunny with a determined expression.

“We’ll take Albus.” Bog looked from one to the other, realizing he wasn’t going out hunting Roland today. However, if he wasn’t stalking him, having most of his family with him while they were out would be a comfort. His mother would be fine, more than capable of protecting herself should Roland even think of coming to the castle. Still, he needed to have a talk with her should the unthinkable happen.

Bog wasn’t really worried. He knew how hard he had struck Roland. Even though he hadn’t killed him, surely the damage he had done would keep him away from them for a few days. The longer Bog delayed hunting him, the more recovered he would be. Roland was dangerous. He had to be taken out.

*

Albus yawned as the fairies and elf positioned themselves on the saddle he once again wore. “Sorry, Albus. Tomorrow, ye get to rest. I promise.” Bog took a moment to hover in front of the owl, running his hands through the short feathers just above his beak. The owl trilled, fluffing up his feathers. “I’ll take ye hunting tomorrow, just me and ye.” Bog glanced at Marianne, mildly curious why she hadn’t brought up hunting Roland down. It seemed unlike her to not bring it up.

Maybe Marianne was tired? She looked fine. Bog scowled for a moment, wondering. Would she plot the same way he was? To slip away at some point to hunt down Roland on her own? Surely she wouldn’t. Maybe he needed to involve her in his hunt.

Shame rolled over Bog. He did not want Marianne to see him in a half-feral state, hunting with the intent to outright kill Roland. Marianne should not see him in a full rage, which he knew he would end up in. The fight would be brutal, a vicious and quick takedown of the only thing in Bog’s world that threatened him and his family.

“Bog?” Marianne called out to him, sitting on the front of the saddle. “We’re ready.”

“Yeah.” Bog ran his fingers over Albus’ beak, then flew to Marianne, landing behind her and leaning over her, shifting around to get his legs and arms into the right position. He took a moment to kiss Marianne’s neck, making her shiver and giggle. Finding that particular spot on the back of her neck was becoming much easier, the more practice he had.

Bog clicked at the owl, and he spread his wings, stepping off the branch and soaring out into the field, angling as Bog clicked instructions to the north. There would be a conversation later, a serious one, where Bog intended to tell Marianne his plan, mostly to make sure she didn’t have one of her own that she was hiding from him.

Riding on Albus cut the time it would have taken to fly to Sugar Plum’s home down to a few minutes. The owl landed in her tree, near her massive hanging workshop. Sunny remained with Bog on the owl while Marianne and Dawn flew to the door that served as Sugar Plum’s private entrance.

“Sugar Plum is the oldest fairy in the kingdom. If anyone knows about this, she will.” Marianne smiled at her sister as she knocked on Sugar Plum’s door. 

Dawn began flicking her wings uncontrollably. Something was setting off an alarm inside her, an unfamiliar emotion rising up. There should have been nothing to be afraid of, but Dawn stepped closer to her sister, fidgeting with the hem of her rabbit fur cloak. Marianne glanced back at her, assuming she was just nervous about someone else seeing her.

“Who’s there?” Sugar Plum called from the other side of the door in an exasperated tone. 

“Princess Marianne and Princess Dawn. We need to speak with you about the winter metamorphosis. Urgently.” Marianne spoke clearly, leaning toward the door to make sure she was heard.

“There is no such thing,” snapped Sugar Plum from the other side of the door.

“Look, I know the decree, Sugar Plum, and I know the story.” Marianne’s own wings began flicking, snapping out behind her, hitting her sister. “Dawn has gone through the entire process, and we need to know if it’s reversible.”

The locks on the other side of the door slid open, and Sugar Plum peered through the opening, first looking at Marianne, who turned, flaring her wings to show them off, then Dawn behind her. She gasped and flew outside, closing the door quietly behind her.

“What happened. Tell me from the start.” Sugar Plum flew around the pair of them, studying Dawn curiously, tapping a finger on her chin.

“The night of the first frost, we had a big fall party at our tree. Bog flew me home, and Roland was waiting for me,” Marianne began giving Sugar Plum all the details. She went over Bog rescuing her, bringing her home, the time frame, then Dawn’s capture and escape.”

Sugar Plum fixated on the scratches on Dawn’s face, and her wrapped arm, trying to remain calm. “The extreme winter metamorphosis is an environmental adaption, just like the controlled one is. When field fairies live in harsher environments, this is what they did to survive.” Sugar Plum sighed, looking at the sisters, who were clearly there for hope. “Marianne’s physical changes are minimal. When it gets warm, you’ll go through another time of sleep when you would normally lose your wings for your body to readjust, and nothing will be different.”

“And me?” Dawn looked at Sugar Plum hopefully, and the shimmering fairy closed her eyes and shook her head.

“Dawn, your physical changes are mostly permanent,” stated Sugar Plum sadly. “But they will gradually be muted and softened every time you go through a controlled winter metamorphosis. Your hunger for meat and the desire to hunt will dull to a normal level like Marianne’s is now. Eventually, your hands and feet will return to normal, but the fangs and your height will remain as they are.”

Dawn sighed heavily at the news. Marianne put her arm around her sister. “It’s okay, Dawn. The fangs are kinda cute, and you’re taller than me now.” Dawn nodded slowly.

“I’m pretty sure you can have a healer file your fangs down,” smiled Sugar Plum. “In a few years, you’ll look like you should like a full adult. Your youth saved you from a more extreme change.” 

“Thank you, Sugar Plum.” Dawn sniffled and bowed her head in appreciation. She took a deep breath, drawing in the scents around her unintentionally and shook as a wave of fear passed over her. “We need to go.” Dawn gripped Marianne’s arm tightly, almost shoving her off the branch. “Now.” She looked around wildly, recognizing what it was that was triggering her fear.

“Thank you, Sugar Plum,” repeated Marianne, giving her sister a confused look. “We won’t keep you out in the cold.”

“Cold doesn’t bother me.” Sugar Plum shrugged, opening her door. “I worked for Saint Nick.” She hurriedly vanished inside as the sisters flew back to the owl.

“What is wrong with you?” Marianne gave Dawn a dirty look. “That was a little rude.”

“Roland! I smelled Roland! Didn’t you?!” Dawn clenched her hands, hoping her sister smelled him too. Marianne scowled, her forehead wrinkling as she abruptly turned to fly back to Sugar Plum’s door. Dawn followed, looking around wildly, expecting him to drop out of nowhere.

Marianne stood by the door and inhaled, concentrating on the scents. Sugar Plum, her smell was strong, but mixed with it was another scent, a sickening scent that curled Marianne’s lip. Roland. Roland had been here and around Sugar Plum, but she said nothing. Marianne’s hand dropped to the hilt of her sword. She took another deep breath, running through her options.

“Dawn, warn Bog. He needs to watch the other door.” Marianne drew her sword, glaring at the door.

“But I can’t leave you alone!” Dawn whined.

“Then fly fast!” Marianne growled, lifting her hand to knock on the door again. This time, it wasn’t a gentle rap, she banged hard, and Dawn took off to tell Bog they had found Roland.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dawn wants a kitten! Should she get one?!
> 
> Love how this all played out! Which is why you get the next chapter today as well!


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Forced to leave his safe, secure hiding place, Roland proves to be far more prepared than Bog and Marianne expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second of two updates today!

“Get out,” snarled Sugar Plum, throwing the door open to the small room she had given him to rest in. “Immediately!”

“What? You said I could stay here until I healed.” Roland pushed himself up groggily, staring at the glittering fairy in disbelief.

“You lied to me.” Sugar Plum folded her arms, glaring at Roland. “You’re lucky I didn’t outright hand you over to Bog and Marianne for what you did to Marianne and Dawn.”

“Oh.” Roland scowled. “They’re the ones lying?”

“They were just here searching for information about Dawn’s condition, innocently, I might add.” Sugar Plum flew into the hall and pointed to the door. “Take your chances and get out. I can’t just hand you over to them, because I gave you shelter here, but you can not remain. Leave. Immediately.”

“Okay, okay,” grumbled Roland, strapping his sword belt around his waist. His right arm was in a sling, wrapped tightly and splinted, but he could fly fast enough. From the sound of it, he needed to get out of the area before anyone figured out he was there.

Then the knocking began on the door again, loud. “Gee, I wonder if Marianne and Dawn with their new ability to smell things finally figured out you’re here.” Sugar Plum rolled her eyes, flying to the door. “I’d wish you good luck, Roland, but I’d rather wish you to Hell instead.”

Roland scowled after her, realizing he had to get out of there fast, and he wasn’t getting out the way Sugar Plum was flying. He had to exit through the main workshop door and quickly.

*

“Sugar Plum.” Marianne met Sugar Plum with her sword drawn. “If he’s here, you need to tell me immediately. I have a score to settle with him for what he did to my sister.”

With a sigh, Sugar Plum moved aside. “I had no idea he was lying to me when he showed up on my doorstep last night, begging for help.”

“We will discuss this later,” growled Marianne storming past Sugar Plum. “You should have told me immediately!” Marianne ran into the hallway, catching a glimpse of Roland’s wings through the open door at the end of the hall as he fled into the workshop.

“You better fly, Roland!” Marianne screamed, darting down the hallway and taking to the air the moment she was through the door. “I’m coming for you!”

The workshop was massive, with two levels, most of which were filled with elves and fairies working on various things that were used throughout the kingdom. Empty, unlit bulbs and firebricks were strewn everywhere, being carried to their stations for delivery or storage. Roland flew over the tables and delivery mechanics, conveyer belts that wound around the workshop, looking for the door.

Marianne followed in a rage, her narrower, shorter wings making her more maneuverable and quicker. She was catching up. That was until Roland found the door and swung it open with a laugh. He bolted out into the light, and there was a roar, followed by a loud cracking sound. Marianne flew through the open door as cold air shot inside to see Bog turning with his staff in hand, flying down the side of the tree.

Roland momentarily fell, then righted himself and shot off across the field, heading to the north with Bog close behind. Marianne flew after them, her sword still drawn. They were close enough, there was no way for Roland to escape, but he was still trying. Bog was quickly closing the gap, his plates flared out in anger as he gripped his staff, preparing to knock Roland out of the air if he could just get close enough.

Marianne tried to flank Bog, watching as Roland reached the tree line, weaving around a tree in an effort to slow Bog down. Thinking quickly, Marianne widened her distance from Bog, moving to intercept Roland from the side. Roland dodged and weaved, doubling back a few times, trying to figure out a way to lose Bog and Marianne. Still, they were narrowing in on him, keeping him between them and working on wearing him out. 

Bog and Marianne were in far better shape, and they fell back, mutually realizing they had the upper hand, and letting Roland wear himself out would be the best choice. It was all going well until their overconfidence cost them. Marianne hit a small branch, and a net dropped out of nowhere, snaring her inside.

“Bog!” Marianne screamed, working at the net with her sword. He turned at her cry, distracted, and Roland took that moment to pull a line that had been holding a limb back. It snapped forward, and Bog didn’t see it coming. The limb struck him hard in the chest, sending him flying back into another tree’s trunk. The larger fairy fell, crashing through a few limbs on the way down.

Roland grinned, drawing his sword. Now! He had Bog down, and Marianne was not close enough to do anything. With a snarl, Roland flew at Bog, his sword raised to deliver a killing blow to his exposed neck. Finally!

“No!” Dawn shrieked, hitting Roland in the chest with her full weight, knocking his sword from his hand. “You leave Boggy alone!” Then she sank her fangs into Roland’s right shoulder, easily piercing cloth and skin. Roland screamed, trying to push her off with his good arm, wings flailing unevenly at the pain in his shoulder. Dawn held on firmly, digging in with her claws as she growled and pulled at his leather armor.

“Get off!” Roland snarled, finally managing to dislodge Dawn. Marianne replaced her, screeching as she took a swipe at him with her sword, then a second. Roland back winged then turned to flee. Two against one was not a fair fight by any means, and they would not leave Bog while he was still stunned. Now was his chance to flee.

Marianne let him go with a scowl, flying to where Bog had fallen. Dawn followed, not about to pursue Roland on her own. She lifted the inside of her cloak and rubbed it over her face, the coppery taste of blood fouling her mouth.

Bog was sitting up, a pained grimace fixed on his face as he held a hand to his chest. His hand glowed as he healed the more severe damage, then wheezed, attempting to catch his breath. Marianne sheathed her sword, rushing to his side, noticing how his chest armor was pushed in on one side. Blood streamed from his nose, and his face was scratched up.

“I think, I think I might-” Bog patted his armor. “Off. Off.” Marianne pushed Bog, and he rolled onto his side on the ground, gasping for air. She pushed his fur cloak aside, fumbling with the straps on his chest plate while Dawn watched in horror, having no idea what to do. The moment the straps loosened, Bog inhaled deeply, pulling at the plating. “I need a moment,” he groaned as Marianne freed him entirely of the battered chest plate, tossing it aside to look at his chest.

Bog groaned, laid out flat on his back, breathing with obvious pain. His pale skin was red, blood pooling beneath. Marianne winced. She hoped his ribs were just bruised, and none had been broken and pushed into his lungs. Surely he healed any life-threatening damage.

“Did you heal yourself? Can you get up and fly?” Marianne hated to ask as she glanced around, wary about Roland coming back. 

“I did what I could,” Bog groaned, gathering his feet beneath him and with Marianne and Dawn’s help, got to his feet, twitching his wings in turn to test them. His staff was a short distance away.

“Marianne!” She looked up as her name was spoken in a familiar voice by someone who should not have been there.

“Father?” Marianne and Dawn gaped as half a dozen fairies wearing white and black armor covered in grey cloaks dropped out of the trees, and with them, their father, only he didn’t look quite the same. The last time Marianne saw him, he was the father she had always known him as, overweight, with varying shades of grey in his hair and beard. His hair and beard were much shorter than usual, cropped close in a hastily done haircut and trim.

The winter metamorphosis took his weight and changed him dramatically, making him look much younger, rejuvenated. He was still a little overweight but had more muscle, and his hair, his hair was the same color as Marianne’s with only a few wispy bits of grey above his ears

“Griselda told us you left to talk to Sugar Plum, then we ran into Sunny and the owl, and he told us you flew out here chasing Roland.” King Dagda explained quickly, looking around. “Did he escape?”

“Yes,” growled Bog. “Watch out, he has traps out here.”

“We need to get Bog back to Sugar Plum so she can look at him,” grumbled Marianne. “Dad…”

“You look so… young.” Dawn spoke up in awe. “Why do you look young?”

“I don’t know.” King Dagda stepped up to Dawn, hugging her. “I’m sorry, Dawn. Are you okay?”

“She’s fine,” grumbled Marianne. “Nothing that time won’t mostly fix. Dad, I need to take Bog to Sugar Plum. Roland’s around here somewhere, but this is apparently where he lives, considering the traps. We can come back.” She took a deep breath, “Or you can hunt him without us.”

“No, we need to work up a plan.” Dagda shook his head. “My first priority was finding Dawn.”

*

Sugar Plum was apologetic as she worked on Bog, who was very annoyed she hadn’t told them immediately about Roland. He glowered at her but didn’t say much since she had the ability to make sure he wasn’t suffering any life-threatening injuries. He didn’t mention that he had already healed himself as far as he could. Marianne sat nearby, glaring at Sugar Plum, seething with anger and worried about her husband.

“I am so sorry.” Sugar Plum sighed, hovering to one side, folding her arms. “You’ll be fine, Bog. Your armor saved you from the worst of it, but you need to go home and rest.”

“Roland is out there,” hissed Bog, pushing himself up slowly.

“That’s not your concern now. It appears your father-in-law is going to take care of that.” Sugar Plum pointed out, dropping her hands to her hips. “If you weren’t such a jerk in the first place, I wouldn’t have believed Roland’s lies.”

Bog ground his teeth at Sugar Plum, reaching for his staff and using it to get to his feet. “Come on, Marianne, I’m sure Albus will be more than happy to take us home, then we can figure out what we’re doing.”

“Resting!” Sugar Plum called after him. “If you do not rest, you might do more damage to your chest.”

“Bog.” Marianne joined him, casting one final dirty look at Sugar Plum. “I know you don’t want to sit this out, and neither do I, but-” she took a deep breath. “-I’ll stay with you at home. Dad knows where he is, and he has his best soldiers with him.”

With a sigh, Bog relented, “Okay.” He hated to sit back and do nothing, but every step sent a jolt of pain through his chest, and every breath took far more effort than it should have. He was in no shape to fight, and he knew it. “Let’s go.”

*

He had nothing to lose. Roland caught sight of the soldiers as he fled. When they didn’t follow, he took a moment to rebind his arm. Blood seeped from his shoulder, where Dawn had bitten him, but it wasn’t a serious injury. Roland made a decision and took off for the south, realizing that Bog and Marianne would be held up by Bog’s injury.

Roland assumed the king and his men would search for him. Eventually, Bog, Marianne, and possibly Dawn would return home, and when they did, they wouldn’t find it nearly as welcoming or safe. Over the months, Roland watched Bog and Marianne, he noticed that he only saw one type of goblin ever come outside, the little pale ones with horns. There were none of the larger trolls or smaller goblins.

It occurred to him that the lizard and toad looking goblins might just do what all the other lizards and toads did. They hibernated during the winter. If that were the case, then the Bog King’s new castle was not nearly as daunting of a place as he initially thought. In any case, Roland made his decision, and he would take as many lives as possible, starting with the Bog King’s mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was one of those really intense chapters to write with so much happening. I had to line the dates up as well for Dagda's appearance. ;) I also had to DECIDE what kind of interesting things went with it, since I wanted Dagda to be able to actually FLY and not be carried. It was an easy choice to make!
> 
> Enjoy and have a good Monday!


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roland has broken into Bog and Marianne's castle, intent on taking out anything and everything Bog cares about.

Griselda heard him fiddling with the door all the way in her room. Despite her age, she had excellent hearing, and the scraping sound on the door was clear. Then she heard the claws shredding the wood, working at the seal. Because she was expecting Bog to return, the entry to the sunning porch wasn’t sealed tight, and because the castle tree and rock weren’t complete, they had a number of weak points.

Still, Bog and his mother had prepared for an event such as this, and Bog reminded her there was a dangerous predator out there, and Roland could possibly try to get inside while they were away. Griselda ran past the door as Roland began slamming into it. She went for the stairs, carrying her axe, bolting the door behind her.

With incredible speed, the elderly goblin went down the stairs, stopping halfway down at a little room that was set up for the guards and messengers. She exchanged words with them, telling them they had to lock down and secure all the tunnels leading to the hibernating dens. The goblins raced down the stairs, getting to work sealing off the tunnels, leaving only the throne room open. 

In her haste, Griselda forgot about their very important guest in the unfinished rooms off the throne room. She and the other goblins hid behind the sealed doors, listening, and waiting.

*

It took Roland far longer than he wanted to break through the door. If Bog had been there, both he and Marianne would have had ample time to prepare to meet him, but they clearly were not anywhere around. When the door finally gave way, Roland stormed inside and took a quick look around. 

There was no one there, just their scents. Roland growled and found the door to the stairs. It only took a few hits to knock the door down. He flew down the stairs, knowing they were expecting him, ready to engage anyone he met in hand to hand combat. So far, the Bog King’s castle seemed deserted, making Roland warier.

“Come out!” Roland called as he flew into the throne room. He circled Bog’s half-finished throne, growling. Where was everyone? He noticed the numerous tunnels off the throne room, each one blocked by massive stone walls. There was no way he was getting through those.

Frustrated, Roland landed and inhaled, smelling the odor of a nearby fire, he walked behind the throne, growling. Roland didn’t see Ciara, and she didn’t see him, but she did smell him and hear him. The black cat held so still in the entrance of the room that held her kittens, shaded by darkness, that she was almost invisible.

Ciara didn’t bother with a warning growl or hiss. She wasn’t afraid of Roland, but she remembered his scent as the fairy that attacked her and a predator. A danger to her kittens. She reached out with a paw, claws out, and struck the fairy, sending him crashing into a wall. Then she hissed, listening for movement, a growl rising in her throat. 

*

Bog set his jaw against the pain and cold as Albus flew them swiftly home. His breathing was labored, and Sugar Plum refused to give him anything to ease his discomfort, stating she would not allow him to hurt himself further by dulling the pain. The pain was there to tell him to stop, that he needed to rest and heal.

Marianne sat behind Bog this time because any touch on his chest caused excruciating pain. There was no way Bog could have flown the entire way back. His shortness of breath would have eventually made him pass out. The ride back on the owl, while more comfortable than flying, was not pleasant. Bog couldn’t get into any position that relieved the pain while telling Albus where to go, and the owl was in mild distress, sensing his master’s condition.

Finally, Albus came to rest in the tree, on his usual perch. The owl lowered himself, hooting softly at Bog as the fairies and elf disembarked. “I’ll be fine,” sighed Bog hovering in front of the owl’s head, taking a moment to give him attention and run his clawed hand through the feathers between his eyes. Albus puffed up, his eyes half-closed. 

Using his staff to help him walk, Bog walked along the limb where Marianne was waiting for him. Dawn walked ahead of them with Sunny close behind. They half flew, half walked down to the sunning deck, with Dawn and Sunny falling back as the elf had to traverse the limbs using the goblin route. Bog made a note of the work he needed to do to make getting up to Albus’ perch easier.

“I’m sure your mom will have something warm to drink, then you can sit in front of the fire and rest,” stated Marianne encouragingly as they approached the sunning deck. “Put on one of the nice robes I had made for you?”

‘Yes,” sighed Bog. “Better than walking around naked.”

“You’re just shirtless, Bog, that’s not naked.” Marianne hovered close behind Bog as he covered the remaining distance with a quick flight. 

“I don’t see ye walking around without a top on.” Bog smirked at her, then landed on the sunning deck and looked at the door. He froze, and so did Marianne as she landed next to him. Bog’s wings twitched as he stared into the opening, his jaw slack. “Mother.” Bog charged forward, ignoring the pain with Marianne following close behind, drawing her sword.

“Dawn, Sunny! Stay outside! We have a problem!” Marianne called out to her sister before passing through the door.

Bog bristled, inhaling deeply, his pauldrons and wings flaring out fully with a rattle. “Roland.” He hissed, glancing around. “Marianne, please check my mother’s room quickly.” He stepped forward to check their side of the house while Marianne flew through the hall that led to Griselda’s rooms.

To Bog’s relief, there was no sign of his mother or a struggle, just the bashed-in door that led down into the tree. He stopped at the door, inhaling the invader’s scent, pushing the pain aside.

“She’s not here.” Marianne returned and stood by the door with Bog, staring into the opening.

“Let’s go.” Bog brandished his staff and stepped forward, walking carefully instead of flying, gritting his teeth. “I told mom to get down into the castle and lock it down should something like this happen.”

“Which means Roland is most likely waiting for us down there.” Marianne frowned, keeping close to Bog. She turned and glared up the stairs at the sound of footsteps following them. Dawn and Sunny came into view, hurrying after them. “I told you two to wait outside.” Marianne snapped at them.

“I smell Roland,” growled Dawn, her eyes flashing. “And Bog’s hurt, he shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Roland’s hurt more,” Bog responded stubbornly, fighting the pain in his chest with each step.

“Let us handle it,” Marianne sighed. There was no time to argue, they had to find Roland as soon as possible and deal with him.

“If he’s gone crazy enough to invade our home by himself, then we are dealing with someone who has lost all his sanity now.” Bog reached the bottom of the stairs and stopped, holing his staff out in front of him to stop the others from walking past him. The tunnels they could see were clearly sealed.

Bog began breathing quickly, hearing Ciara’s angry yowl echoing through the cavern. Anger and fear for his old friend swept through his body, and he flew toward his throne, prepared to find Roland there, doing something to his blind and defenseless cat. Marianne, Dawn, and Sunny followed in silence, prepared to do battle.

Ciara’s angry yowl turned into a welcoming meow at the sound of Bog’s wings. She swung her head in his direction, ears up, listening. For a moment, Bog was confused. Ciara sat in the entry and didn’t appear to be any more injured than she was before. Then his eyes landed on the crumpled form in the shadows across from her.

“It’s okay, Ciara.” Bog took a moment to touch his cat’s nose before turning to examine what she had done. Roland laid on the ground, face down, his left arm over his head. His wings were heavily damaged, and there was blood all over his back where the cat had caught him. It appeared he had been struck more than once.

Growling, Bog prodded Roland with his staff as Marianne drew her sword. Dawn stood behind her, prepared. Sunny grimaced, a short dagger in his hands. They all watched, unsure if they would be happy he had been killed by the cat or not.

“Don’t let her eat me,” whimpered Roland, quivering and too terrified to move. “I surrender.”

“I should kill ye right here and let Ciara eat ye after what ye did,” Bog snarled, jabbing Roland again. “Get up.”

Roland managed to sit up, leaning against the wall with his head bowed and body sagging. He was in an awful state, bloodied and battered. For as much as Bog had wanted to kill him, and he still wanted to see him dead, he wasn’t a murderer and had no desire to cross that line. Judging by the disgusted and confused look on Marianne’s face, neither did she.

They weren’t like Roland. They never would be.

“Sunny, ye got rope?” Bog tilted his head to the elf.

“Always.” Sunny nodded, sheathing his dagger to pull out the rope he always kept in his pack.

“Tie him up so he can’t escape,” growled Bog, leaning on his staff for a moment.

*

Marianne’s emotions were all over the place as she helped Sunny tie Roland’s hands together. Roland didn’t say anything or look at anyone, for the first time in his life wholly defeated and crushed. Marianne was sure he knew he would never fly again. He was maimed and grounded, his once beautiful body torn and mangled.

And she felt a tiny bit of sorrow that his idiotic choices had led him to this end. Yes, she had wanted to hunt him down and kill him. She was certain Bog had come to this same conclusion, that Roland needed to die to be stopped. But now? He was a broken shell and honestly not worth sullying her soul with something that, at this point, would have just been cold murder. 

Besides, having Roland live out the remainder of his life in this state would be punishment enough. He would be judged by a fairy court for everything he had done and the trouble he caused. Marianne wasn’t sure if he would end up imprisoned for life or relocated. The latter seemed more likely, a permanent exile so far away he would never find his way back.

They put Roland into a hanging steel cage in one of the adjoining caverns, a place Bog designated for his dungeon while noting the cages usually hung empty. They were only there as a visual and rarely needed for his own people. Today, they came in handy for holding one severely beaten idiot.

Bog was kind enough to have healers attend to Roland before he was locked up, ensuring that he wouldn’t die before he was judged and sentenced. While it was within his power, Bog didn’t want to be bothered by seeing Roland again and told Marianne her people could have him.

*

“Yes, take the thing some food and water,” snorted Bog from his throne, finally getting everything sorted shortly after noon. Unable to put on a replacement chest plate, he wore a dark blue robe to cover his bruised chest. He shooed away the goblin guard who had just come to tell him Roland was asking for something to eat and water. Marianne took Albus to find her father and his troops and let them know the news.

Dawn was trying to talk Sunny into being friends with Ciara and her kittens in the hall behind his throne. Goblins were giving him reports as he tried to hide just how much pain he was in. He had to keep himself calm, and his breathing steady for any relief. Several goblins were working on replacing the broken doors. Bog considered sealing them closed entirely, his need to be secure, ranging close to paranoia.

His home in the tree was not meant to be as secure as the castle home. Next winter, they would live here, with the tree reserved for warmer weather. He would seal the door closed so it would be impenetrable. His mother, who had admitted she loved her view from her rooms, would have to understand it was not safe for them to be so exposed during the times of the year when dangerous creatures prowled the woods.

Never mind, it was Bog and his beasts who were the dangerous creatures in the woods. He would not be taken off guard. His family would not be vulnerable to enjoy a view. Bog grumbled as the goblin guard returned and ran up to the throne. 

“Yes?” Bog glared at him.

“The prisoner can’t eat or drink with his hands bound.” The guard stated timidly.

“Throw the food at his face and pour water on his head. I don’t care.” Bog rolled his eyes, wanting nothing more than to return to his warm home once the door was fixed and go to bed in his nice, quiet room with the fire nearby. Hopefully, Marianne would join him and just be there for a while.

“Yes, sir.” The guard bowed and ran off again.

“Bog?” Griselda walked around the throne with a tray of food in hand, a bowl of rabbit and root stew, soft bread, and a bottle of goblin ale. “I brought you something to eat.”

“Thank ye, Mother.” Bog shifted, wincing as the movement shot more pain through his chest. “Can ye get me some pain relief leaves from the healers.”

“Already been down to see them,” grumbled Griselda. “They told me that you need to lay down with a cold pack. They won’t give you any as long as you’re forcing yourself to be up.”

Bog scowled, taking a chunk of bread and dipping it into the soup. “I’m the king.”

“I brought you ale.” Griselda pointed out with a smile. “But I agree with them. You will hurt yourself if you don’t have pain holding you back.”

“I’m the king,” repeated Bog, taking a bite of the bread. “I will not relax until that thing is in King Dagda’s hands and out of my castle.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At one point, I did wonder who would take Roland out, Bog or Marianne. Then I decided that I didn't want that kind of revenge death on their hands. I even considered letting Dawn or Sunny do it. Then I went to Ciara, just showing up and biting his head off, but again... didn't like that death either.
> 
> Roland needs to be punished and what worse punishment is there than first, his wings are shredded to a point he can't fly, ever again. Well, there is a way to correct that, but I don't know if he'll ever get that opportunity and also, I think he finally learned his lesson and wouldn't return to harass Marianne and Bog ever again.
> 
> I do have another short story in mind, as well as another story to get rid of Roland.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dawn wants a cat and Bog's tolerating everything going on with his usual grumpiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters today to end the story! This one is 1 of 2!

Dawn leaned on Bog’s throne, her elbows resting on one side, chin on her hands. Her wings were gently waving behind her with excitement as she looked at Bog, who was looking back at her suspiciously. 

“I like the white kitten. Can I have it?” Dawn asked in her sweetest voice, batting her eyelashes at Bog.

“Dawn, ye know nothing about cats,” grumbled Bog, looking away. Her cute, innocent look was beginning to work on him.

“You can teach me all about them!” Dawn persisted, rocking her head back and forth with a smile on it. “I will take good care of it!”

“Him,” stated Bog. “The white one is a boy. They’re both boys.”

“Oh, that’ll make it easier to name him!” Dawn clasped her hands together, squealing happily. “You can teach me all about them! What about Frost? Since he was born in the winter?!” Dawn looked so happy, it caught Bog off guard. 

“Well, Dawn, cats are a big responsibility,” Bog began slowly, running a hand over his head. “I can teach ye all about them, but I don’t think ye should claim one of them as yers. For one thing, all the cats are mine.”

“How many do you have?” Dawn inquired, tilting her head at Bog.

“Seven cats,” replied Bog. “They live up and down the edges of the Dark Forest. However, I will probably expand their range and keep a pair here. I’ll need to get a new queen when Ciara passes. She shouldn’t have had a litter at her age.”

“I promise I’ll take care of Frost.” Dawn smiled as Bog rambled off information.

“They have a job, Dawn,” sighed Bog, having a difficult time saying no to her. “Ye are not a handler and yer a princess, so ye will lose interest.

“Would you say the same thing to Marianne if she wanted a cat?” Dawn lifted her eyebrows at Bog, smiling innocently.

“Marianne is different. If she wants a cat, she can have one,” grunted Bog, knowing his wife didn’t want anything to do with the cats.

“Can we share him? I get to play with him when you don’t need him?” Dawn grinned, the tips of her fangs showing. “I want a cat like you have! They are so amazing! And so soft!”

Bog groaned, despite Dawn making good points. “Dawn, ye can’t handle a cat.”

“You can teach me!” Dawn stated excitedly.

“Uh, what did I walk in on?” Marianne stepped out of the stairwell, able to hear her sister’s voice echoing in the cavern. “What are you going to teach her, Bog?”

Bog opened his mouth to say something, and Dawn interrupted him, squealing, “Bog’s giving me a cat! The white one!” She twirled on her toes, her wings whirling around her. “His name is Frost!”

“I am not!” Bog groaned.

Marianne made a face at her sister. “Yeah, don’t give Dawn a cat. Where would she even keep it?”

“Cat?” Dagda appeared behind her, followed by his six soldiers. “Who’s getting a cat?”

“Nobody is getting a cat, except me.” Bog folded his arms over his chest, wincing as they hit his chest. He spread his arms out, grimacing. “I’ll teach ye about cats, Dawn, but ye do not need one.”

“Oh, I probably don’t need one, but I want one!” Dawn laughed, dancing across the throne room to greet her father.

Keep the cats out of the fairylands, Bog, they’ll terrify everyone,” sighed Dagda, giving his daughter a quick hug.

“You look amazing, Dad!” Dawn complimented him with a giggle.

“Forgive me for not getting up,” stated Bog, remaining seated, grinding his teeth. “And for not being in a good mood.”

“Understandable,” Dagda replied, walking up to Bog’s throne to speak with him. “We’ll take Roland off your hands and hold a trial. Dawn needs to remain here.”

“Yes, I assumed she would stay until her wings drop.” Bog nodded. “What are ye going to do about your change?”

“Hide our wings beneath capes.” Dagda shrugged. “The only external sign is our wings. Probably start a new fashion trend.” 

“Fairies,” snorted Bog, rolling his eyes. “How are you going to explain how Roland looks?”

“We won’t,” Dagda sighed. “We’ll let it go as something mysterious happened.”

“Dad,” Marianne spoke up, moving beside him. “We know the full winter metamorphosis doesn’t actually turn us into monsters.”

“I know, dear, but we can not just divulge this information to everyone,” stated Dagda, reaching out to lay a hand on his daughter’s shoulders.

“Dad.” Marianne fixed him with a curious look. “How do we know we’re not interrupting a natural process to our bodies? What if we’re meant to go through this every year, just like we shed our wings in the spring?”

Dagda frowned, looking at his daughter thoughtfully. “I will think about it, Marianne.”

“One more thing, I know it’ll need to wait until spring, but pages were missing from the journals, and they are hidden somewhere called Torbil’s Rest. Do you have any idea what that might be?” Marianne still had that mystery to look into. 

“Either his old room or the family vault.” Dagda frowned. “Your room is always the room for the firstborn prince or princess. Dawn’s is the second. I will have both places searched and get back to you if we find anything. There is one advantage to being able to fly in the winter, communication will be easier.”

“About that. We need to discuss a way to connect all your towns, and our castles with underground tunnels.” Bog used his wings to get off his throne, grimacing as he moved. “Now that we are allies, a system of tunnels will keep things like this from happening in the future. My goblins enjoy building tunnels, and they are safe and secure.”

Dagda nodded. “We’ll discuss it. I’m open to such a system. We do build tunnels in the snow in the winter, but it’s too cold for fairies.”

“Okay, let’s get that thing out of my castle,” growled Bog, landing beside Marianne.

*

Marianne felt terrible for her husband. Nobody would give him anything for his pain, because everyone knew he wouldn’t stay down if he wasn’t hurting. She remembered how he was when recovering from almost being crushed by his castle. He would get up and want to do anything he could normally do. Pain slowed him down. Bog made himself as comfortable as he could in their bedroom, his face fixed into a scowl, angry at everyone.

“I have another cold wrap for you.” Marianne held a folded over cloth bag with a waterproof interior holding snow from outside. Bog nodded, sliding the one that currently laid over his chest off and setting it aside. His chest was covered in dark red blotches, and he took a deep breath when Marianne spread the new one over him. “It looks like it’s doing the job of keeping the swelling down.”

She sat down next to him, reaching out to run her fingers over his forehead. His face was covered in scratches. Bog closed his eyes with a sigh, pursing his lips. “I have a headache. I need something, Marianne.”

“Not until evening.” Marianne frowned, hating to tell him no.

“Please?” Bog opened one eye to look at her. “I swear I will stay in bed.”

“No, you won’t.” Marianne smiled, moving closer. “Let me massage your head.” Bog made a face, then sighed, resigned to the fact that nobody was going to listen to him. He shifted slowly, laying his head across Marianne’s lap. She smiled, and he had no choice but to smile back, closing his eyes as her nimble fingers slid over his face, her thumbs gently pressing into his temples. 

“I’ll be able to heal this tomorrow,” he grumbled. 

“I was wondering why you didn’t do it already.”

“Still new to it, and I’m not strong enough. Used some of it on Ciara.” Bog replied with a content sigh. “That feels nice.”

“I didn’t think I could love you more, but seeing you in action, it’s… if you weren’t hurting so bad…” Marianne leaned over Bog to kiss him on the forehead.

“Don’t say things like that,” groaned Bog. “Don’t tease me right now, vixen.”

“I can go away.” Marianne smiled, kissing the tip of his nose.

“Don’t ye dare go away.” Bog jumped, then sighed, making a face. “Ow, hurt everywhere. When I heal myself tomorrow, I’m coming for ye.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Marianne met his lips briefly, not wanting to carry things too far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Bog. He's the king and nobody listens to him... for his own good. :D


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the end, nobody wins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is 2 of 2 updates today. Be sure to read the previous chapter first!

Marianne popped open the seal on the envelope from the father. The messenger, one of her father’s six soldiers who had undergone the winter metamorphosis, sat at the dining room table eating a piece of fresh-baked acorn bread and honey as Griselda poured him a cup of hot tea. She frowned, folding the envelope and tucking it insider a pocket on her tunic.

“Will you need me to wait for a message for your father, Princess Marianne?” The soldier inquired as Marianne walked by him.

“No, but thank you, Guthrie. Come back in a week, if you don’t mind. I have a lot of thinking to do.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The soldier nodded and sipped his tea.

Marianne flew down the stairwell, troubled by the contents of the letter. It had been two weeks since they captured Roland, and her father had been busy. She landed on the last step to walk out into the throne room.

Dawn flew across the throne room with a rope in hand, enticing two fat kittens to chase the feather lure on the end. The kittens were unsteady on their paws, bumping into each other and rolling more than actually walking. Marianne smiled at her sister’s antics, Dawn’s laughter filling the cavern. 

Marianne flew up to Bog’s throne, where he was seated, watching Dawn with amusement, while Sunny fretted a few feet away. Ciara was curled around the throne, with Bog’s hand resting on her head, over the side of his throne. Most of her injuries had healed, and Bog had worked on her eye, but the way she had been hurt was more than he could heal entirely. Now, it was cloudy, a cataract covering it. The cat had some vision, but not much.

“Hey, Marianne,” Sunny greeted her nervously, his eyes locked on Dawn. 

“Sunny.” Dawn nodded at him, then stopped to stare at him. “You know Bog wouldn’t let her play with them if they would actually hurt her, right?”

“Yes,” muttered Sunny, still watching Dawn. “I kinda wish I could go out there with her, but not being able to fly makes it hard for me to do things like that with her.”

“I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if you joined her.” Marianne smiled, trying to encourage Sunny. “She loves you.”

“I know,” sighed Sunny, glancing up at Marianne. “I know.” 

“Dawn’s doing good with them,” chuckled Bog, motioning for Marianne to join him on his throne. The goblins had finished assembling it, so it was now a full deer skull with curving antlers going everywhere. “She’s impressing me with how much she wants to learn about cats.”

“Bog, Dawn does not need a cat,” groaned Marianne stepping up onto the throne and taking her seat next to Bog, leaning into his arms. “So, I got a letter from Dad. They didn’t find anything with any pages in them, and there isn’t an urn for Torbil in our vault.”

“Oh.” Bog frowned at the news. 

“But there was a place for his urn,” added Marianne. “That means it was moved after his placement and wherever it is, is probably where we’ll find the pages. From what I read in the journals, he had a specific window seat he enjoyed writing in. There are a lot of window seats in our family library, and many of them are decorated with random family heirlooms.”

“Are ye going to write a letter for yer father to look?” Bog began playing with Marianne’s hair, stroking his fingers through her thick shoulder-length locks.

“No, I want to look myself.” Marianne closed her eyes. “Roland is being exiled, Bog.”

“Good,” Bog hissed in response.

“You get to decide where.”

“No,” Bog groaned.

“Dad wanted you to decide, so you would be satisfied it would be far enough away.”

“I will think about it.” Bog continued stroking his fingers through Marianne’s hair, entertained by how the longer it got, the more it curled. She had been too busy to trim it, and he assumed some fairy in the castle usually took care of it. Dawn’s hair was falling similarly, not sticking up as much and falling over in waves. 

“Let’s fly to the castle today, Marianne. We’ll just hide yer wings in yer cloak. I want to let yer father know I’ll handle Roland.” Bog shifted to get up. Ciara rose next to him with a purr.

“Are you sure?” Marianne grinned, hovering to her feet.

“Well, ye were going to obsess over it until ye went out anyway, right?” Bog gave her a knowing smile, flexing his wings. “I’ll help ye.”

“Great! We’ll go back with the messenger. I’m sure Dad has them coming and going through his balcony.” Marianne flared her wings, spinning into the air with giddy excitement.

“Dawn, time for the kittens to sleep!” Bog shouted across the throne room. Dawn immediately turned to lure them back to their little room.

“You don’t plan on all these cats living in the throne room, do you?” Marianne landed next to Bog, her wings fanning lightly behind her.

“No.” Bog shook his head. “In one of the empty adjoining caverns. It’s just not ready yet.” He reached up to Ciara, scratching her beneath her chin. “And next winter, we’ll stay down here.”

“I’ll let Guthrie know we’re going back with him.” Marianne darted forward for a quick kiss, which turned into a much longer one as Bog wrapped his arms around her and didn’t let her go.

*

There was a chill in the air, but it didn’t bother the trio of fairies as they neared the fairy rock castle, and Guthrie led them into the balcony that led to King Dagda’s study. Two soldiers greeted them and opened the doors. The king was inside, actually exercising with one of the younger soldiers, which looked more like he had challenged the young man into outdoing him in push-ups. 

Dagda stopped as soon as the doors open, but Marianne smiled, happy to see him doing something more than sitting around, eating sweets. “Dad,” She crossed the floor to greet him, then slid to a stop, waving her hand in front of her face. “How long have you been doing that?”

“Funny thing,” Dagda grinned, grabbing a towel off a nearby chair to wipe the sweat off his face. “It’s invigorating to lose so much weight, and I didn’t realize just how much it slowed me down. I thought I would keep at it. I’m not as old as I look.”

“So you’ve given what I said some thought? Because I think when everyone sees how you’ve changed, they’re going to have questions.” Marianne stated candidly, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.

“I need more information,” sighed Dagda. “I have the librarians scouring the archives for any books on the winter metamorphosis that might have been overlooked.”

“They destroyed all of them?” 

“It appears so.” Dagda frowned. “I’m glad to see you, Marianne, but what brings you here? You didn’t have to fly all the way out here to respond to my letter.”

“I wanted to do a search of my own for Torbil’s urn. I think I know where it might be.” Marianne glanced at the door to the hall. “If I can go to the family library?”

“Everyone on our floor has been sworn to secrecy, so go ahead, Marianne.” Dagda nodded his approval, then looked at Bog, who towered silently over his daughter.

“I need to make arrangements for Roland’s exile,” stated Bog gravely. “I have a good idea to get him as far away from here as possible and give him a reason to never return.”

“Do you want to talk to him?” Dagda inquired. 

“Not right now, no.” Bog shook his head. “I’m just here to help Marianne.”

“Okay.” Dagda turned to face the four soldiers standing by the door that led into the hall. “Boys, let’s see if we can find a lost urn in the library.”

*

The family library was a room Bog hoped to emulate when he finished their home in the new castle. It was a large, comfortable room with a dozen reading nooks set up along one wall, carved into the stone. Each one looked out onto the surrounding field, with curtains that could be pulled over the windows or over the nook itself to offer a private reading area.

Shelves lined with books filled part of the room, while the rest was open with a few desks, comfortable couches, and an assortment of colorful cushions. The stone floors were covered with a variety of rugs, and a skylight filled with pale blue and white glass flooded the room with just the right amount of light.

The fairies flew across the room to begin searching from the ground up, while Bog and Marianne flew to the nooks. There were niches cut into the walls around the nooks, holding a variety of items. They were covered in dust. Marianne leaned in to blow away the dust, and her wings carried it into Bog’s face, causing him to sneeze.

“Sorry.” Marianne grimaced apologetically. “Looks like this room could use a more thorough cleaning. We just weren’t using it as much as we used to.’

“Yeah.” Bog rubbed a hand over his nose, sniffing. “This is my favorite room in yer castle.”

“Really?” Marianne responded in a coy tone. “Not my bedroom?”

“Curtains on both sides, nice cushion, just enough room for two,” growled Bog, playfully flicking one of the curtains aside.

“Not now, Bog.” Marianne huffed with a smile. She flew to the next nook with Bog close behind. They made their way up the wall, with Marianne paying close attention to each item, but not having any luck. Then she spotted a nook, just below the skylight, a place she had never noticed before. “Bog.” She called to him, pointing to the skylight.

“I didn’t notice this last time I was here,” stated Bog rising up with Marianne.

“I’ve lived here my entire life and never noticed it.” Marianne landed on a narrow ledge, peering inside what appeared to be a small room, lit by ambient light from the skylight. There were a few old dusty cushions pushed against one wall and a crumpled blanket. Bog landed next to her, having to crouch to fit inside the opening.

“Nothing up here,” sighed Bog, using his staff to poke at the cushions and blanket. When he did, his staff made a clanging sound, hitting something beneath the blanket.

“Careful, Bog.” Marianne grabbed his arm, pulling the staff back. With an excited flick of her wings, she pushed aside the cushions and gently moved the blanket, revealing an ornate ceramic urn. It was dark blue with swirls of white and snowflakes on it. Silver bands wrapped around it with Torbil’s name engraved into the design. “I have it.” Marianne clutched the urn to her chest for a moment, hugging it. “You didn’t get the best of treatment in life or death, did you, Torbil?” 

“Ye, okay?” Bog murmured, joining her to see what she found.

“It’s just sad.” Marianne handed the urn to Bog, who turned it around in his hands, giving her the chance to discretely wipe her eyes. She pulled the blanket out and revealed a large porcelain box that matched the urn. 

“I’m going to assume ye don’t put ashes into two containers,” stated Bog, holding the urn carefully as Marianne retrieved the box. She turned to show it to Bog, sliding her fingers over the silver band holding it closed. There was a snapping sound, and Marianne yelped, pulling her hand back.

“It cut me!” Marianne turned her hand over to show a tiny cut across her fingertips. She flicked her fingers at the sting, then stuck them in her mouth. The box hummed, and the binding straps slid off the top, withdrawing into coils at the sides.

“So yer family has a little magical knowledge? I think it unlocked for ye.” Bog observed curiously. 

Marianne nodded and lifted the lid. The box was big enough for the pages on top to be laid out flat, and Marianne stared at the sheet on top, which looked as fresh as the day it had been put in the box, the same style as the journal pages. She took a sharp breath, the words on the page blurring for a moment.

“My confession,” Marianne whispered, picking up the papers and skimming over them.

“Good, it’s what ye were hoping to find?” Bog glanced from Marianne to the remaining contents in the box, and he laughed. “Marianne!”

“What?” She made a face at him, then looked at what was under the papers. It was a book, a thick book with the words Winter Metamorphosis foiled in silver into the dark blue cover. Below those words, were more words, The Science and History of the Winter Metamorphosis, instructions, benefits, and cautions. 

*

“My confession,” Marianne stood in the middle of the fairy soldiers, her father, and Bog, beginning to read over the letter. “I, King Laine, renounce my claim to the throne and family line of Kings and Queens of the Fairylands. Following a series of bad, cowardly decisions, which, as you can see, I even hid up to my death, cede my claim to my wife, Queen Anna. Her son, Prince Esmond, is the son of Prince Torbil.”

She took a breath, finding the words hard to read. 

“I, King Laine, was jealous of my brother, and upon finding he married the woman I desired, sought to end their marriage through violence. I met my brother before the first frost and attacked him, beating him and leaving him to die in the cold of the first frost. However, I found out a week later that I failed. The Winter Metamorphosis healed my brother, and he returned home, justifiably angry that I had stolen his wife.

“He was rational, and I talked him down, lying to him. I told him I would release Anna to him, and we would forget this happened. Torbil was a good man and a good brother, but I couldn’t let it go and slew him when his back was turned, in private.

“I am a coward.

“I hid what I did behind a lie and forbade the winter metamorphosis from ever happening again. The books were destroyed, all except one, that I held back out of guilt.

“I never touched Anna. She became loathsome to me, tied to what I had done, and I fear I was awful to her. She never knew what happened to Torbil, and to be honest, when she passed away, I was happy for her. She was an amazing woman who did not deserve what happened to her, and I fear she was loyal to her marriage to me to the end.”

Marianne folded the letter, handing it to her father, unable to continue. She swallowed, her head low as she walked up to Bog and hugged him.

“I believe I’ve made up my mind,” stated Dagda with a frown, wiping the back of his hand over his eyes quickly as he scanned the letter. “We’ll correct the story, Marianne, with the truth. I need time to reintroduce the Winter Metamorphosis to our people. We’ll make copies of the book and make sure everyone has access to it. We still need to be careful.”

“I understand.” Marianne nodded, her tone subdued by what she just read. Her happiness at solving the mystery was gone, replaced by sadness for the entire situation. Nobody wins in a situation like that. “I think it’s time to go home.” She leaned against Bog, and he wrapped his arms around her securely.

“I know ye can fly on yer own, but I’d like to carry ye,” whispered Bog. Marianne nodded, allowing Bog to scoop her up into his arms. “King Dagda.” Bog bowed his head slightly.

“I’ll get to work.” Dagda sighed. “Marianne, you did the right thing.”

“I know, but it doesn’t feel that great.” Marianne leaned her head against Bog’s chest.

“That’s the way it is when you are a king or queen.” Dagda frowned. “You’ve done your part, go on and enjoy the rest of your day. Don’t linger over things that happened so far in the past. Bye, Marianne.”

“Bye, Dad.” Marianne closed her eyes, just feeling exhausted by everything. Bog made his way out of the library, clutching her close, concerned. He saw how her posture suddenly shifted from one of confident eagerness to oppressive sadness, and he had to help her escape.

Marianne rested in his arms in silence, her arms clasped across her stomach, eyes closed. As much as he liked carrying her, it wasn’t something she typically wanted, not like this. 

“Love? Are ye okay?” Bog whispered as they neared their home.

“Yes, I’m fine,” she replied, opening her eyes to gaze up at him. “It was just all so wrong. Everything went wrong when it shouldn’t have.”

“They weren’t your mistakes,” stated Bog.

“The fact they happened was bad enough. In my own family,” grumbled Marianne.

“It won’t happen to us.” Bog flew low over a snowbank and suddenly dropped Marianne into the snow. She yelped as he let go, landing in the drift in an explosion of snowflakes.

“Bog!” Marianne yelled, bursting out of the snow in a fury. He was nowhere to be seen, but she heard a cackle coming from a nearby tree. She took off with a growl, intent on finding him and shoving his face into the snow.

He was waiting for her, pelting her with several snowballs before darting into the overhanging tree limbs with a laugh. Marianne followed, still angry at being dumped in the snow, completely forgetting how sad she was.

Around and around the tree, they flew, grabbing handfuls of snow and throwing them at each other until the angry growls turned into laughter. They stopped throwing snowballs at each other and began a new game, darting at and around each other, flirtatiously reaching out to touch each other and then flit out of range of the other’s hands.

“I’ve got you!” Marianne squealed in an uncharacteristically high voice, tackling Bog around the waist and clinging to him.

“Do ye now?” Bog laughed, a good hearty laugh as he ran the tips of his nails beneath Marianne’s arms, eliciting wild giggling as she fought to hold on.

“Tickling… isn’t fair!” Marianne gasped, trying to hold on.

“Ha-ah!” Bog grabbed her, rolling onto his back to pull her up to rest on his chest. She laid on him, resting her elbows on his chest to prop her head up.

“I’m still sad,” she sighed with a smile. “It’s just sad.”

“Their problems are not our problems. I’m sure we have plenty of our own without worrying about theirs.” Bog ran his hands up into Marianne’s hair, cradling her face between his palms. “I love ye, my beautiful, compassionate queen.”

“I’ve made a decision, Bog.” Marianne smiled at him, spreading her wings to take some of her weight off of Bog. “If you agree with me, of course.”

“What is it, love?” He stroked his thumbs over her cheeks, looking into her soft golden-brown eyes, the little flecks of gold seeming tamed down for the moment, gently glowing instead of on fire.

“I need you to finish our home and make sure the nursery is nice and warm down in the castle by fall. And you need to put railings on the stairs, and we need to make the area around the castle safe for the goblin babies and our own.” Marianne smiled, gazing into his widening blue eyes, bright and overwhelmed. His wingbeats faltered, and Marianne dropped her arms with a laugh to grab onto him.

“Marianne? Yer serious?” Bog couldn’t hide the excitement in his voice as his smile widened. “How soon? We have to be prepared!”

“I’ll stop taking the berries. So in a couple of months, maybe we’ll have some good news for our parents.” Marianne pushed herself back up again. “So stop taking that leaf too.”

“Bleah!” Bog made a face, wrapping his arms around her and hovering upright. “No more of the nasty leaves!” His body trembled, and he squeezed Marianne tightly, burying his head against her shoulder. “I love ye, Marianne. I love ye so much.”

Marianne snuggled into his arms, resting her head against his. It was a big decision, but after yet another time of being reminded what kind of a man Bog was, the kind who did what needed to be done no matter how dangerous it was, she made it. Life could be a fragile thing, and she hoped he would be around for her entire lifetime, but if he wasn’t, she needed to have a part of him still with her, and more importantly, Bog would be a wonderful father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that concludes this story, with the confirmation that what Marianne assumed happened being true, yet it obviously didn't have the effect on her she thought it would. This might be something unfamiliar, but when you focus on something really hard, sometimes you forget the true impact of it until you're presented with the actual cost, then it hits you all at once and just drains you of all energy. Actually holding the confession in her hands was the point of reality that struck home really hard, for one, bringing about the fact that Marianne was happy to have figured out what happened and horrified that it happened at all. 
> 
> Hehe, I showed the excerpt of Bog dumping Marianne into the snow out of context and was informed that Bog could be a jerk sometimes. Well, he has no idea how to deal with what Marianne is feeling so went with distracting her. :D I had no idea he was going to do it until he did!
> 
> And thus ends another story. While I do have a short and can write two other stories, I'll wait and see if those of you reading it actually want it. The next stories involve forays into the human world, first with Bog having to go inform the humans his father has living around their land of his death, then to get rid of Roland.
> 
> What say you? Do you want more? Please be vocal. I don't mind spending time on this for fun, it's just that I would like to know people enjoyed it and want it.


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